Family Ties
by Methos2523
Summary: Upon receiving startling news that his sister and her husband died in a car accident, Giles heads back to England to take care of the only family he has left. How will he cope becoming the sole guardian for a teenage witch, who comes with her own set of problems and an entire new world for him to understand?
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Family Ties

AUTHOR: Methos

DISCLAIMER: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, Harry Potter, Hogwarts and all that belong to J K Rowling... nothing is mine, only the extremely twisted idea...

* * *

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Giles shouted out bitterly as he whipped his dressing gown around himself as he made his way clumsily down the stairs, the annoying ring of the telephone having woken him up from a rather sound night's sleep so he was looking forward to explaining, in detail, how annoyed he was at being woken up at this ungodly hour.

He was half hoping it was actually Slayer related somehow. Since Buffy and Willow had gone to college they had both seemed to have moved on with their lives somewhat, not needing him anymore. This was fine with him for the most part, he was happy for them both as they both seemed to actually be progressing as people along with progressing academically.

The other half of him knew that Buffy or Willow would only call at this late hour if it were a dire emergency, even in his sleep filled mind he knew they if that were the case, they would have come over in person to see him, whatever had happened, as both knew he was still there for them both no matter what.

"Do you have any idea what bloody time it is?" Giles bit out as he picked up the phone, all pretence at finding out who it was first now gone from his mind.

"Rupert Giles?" An official sounding English voice came back over the line, shocking Giles somewhat. Of all the people he expected to call, someone from the Council was not on his list. For them to call would have to mean Slayer business, which either meant Buffy, or something had happened to Faith.

"Yes, who is this?" Giles asked, a bit more awake now as he flicked on the side lamp and sat down ready to talk.

"This is Detective Todd of the Kent Metropolitan Police," The voice explained before continuing. "I do apologise for calling at this hour."

"Is there something I can do for you Detective Todd?" Giles asked, his brain trying to figure out exactly why someone from the Kent police force would be contacting him at five am.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news Mister Giles," Detective Todd continued after a brief pause. "Normally we would have sent someone around to talk to you in person, though we were unable to reach the Sunnydale Police Department for some reason."

"News?" Giles caught on to that bit of information, ignoring the comment about the local police here, he knew how useless they were, as it was night here, they were all probably safe at home for the night and the police station closed up and locked down.

"It's about your sister Mister Giles," Detective Todd started slowly.

"Sarah?" Giles asked, clutching the phone tightly now. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm afraid Mrs Granger and her husband were in a car accident earlier today Mister Giles," Detective Todd explained, the sorrow in his voice trying to convey over how sorry he was that they were having to do this over the phone. "I'm sorry to have to inform you like this, but neither of them survived."

"Sarah…" Giles whispered out as the phone dropped from his hand, cluttering on the desk with a loud noise in the emptiness of the room.

Detective Todd's voice came through the line for a few more minutes, repeating his name and expressing how sorry he was, when no reply came back from Giles, the handset wend dead, leaving the soft dial tone coming from the small speaker alone in the room with the soft sounds of tears coming from a man who had just lost the only family he had left.

* * *

"Albus, are you sure?" Professor McGonagall asked, the shock in her voice carrying over the room with ease as Professor Dumbledore nodded slowly at her.

"I'm afraid so Minerva," Dumbledore said with sad eyes. "The muggle police department contacted the Ministry Muggle Relations department this afternoon, they verified it for themselves."

"An accident?" Professor McGonagall asked, then returned to her seat when Dumbledore nodded at her again.

"It appears so," Dumbledore nodded slowly as he stood up from his desk and moved around it to stand in front of her.

"That poor child, she needs to be informed of this, what would this mean for her schooling?" McGonagall asked, worry for her student now at the forefront of her mind. "Where will she go?"

"All is being taken care of," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "A family member has been contacted, her only family now. She will be leaving the school early this year to arrange things with him, I believe that is best."

"Quite," McGonagall nodded in ascent to his arrangement. "When are you going to tell her?"

"I would like you to be the one to inform her," Dumbledore said slowly. "I believe it would be best coming from someone she can talk to about things like this."

"Why yes, of course, I'll inform the girl immediately." Professor McGonagall nodded as she rose from her chair. "This is going to break her heart the poor child."

"Her friends will be there to help her," Dumbledore said knowingly. "They will be strong for her."

"Aye," McGonagall nodded slowly as she paused before leaving the room. "Her new guardian, is he a Wizard?"

"I do not believe so," Dumbledore said slowly, stroking his beard in thought. "As far as I am aware, Miss Granger is the only witch or wizard in her family."

"That might be a problem then, how are we going to explain things to him, especially in her state, self-control and keeping the truth from him will prove difficult to say the least." McGonagall explained her thoughts.

"All in the fullness of time," Dumbledore nodded. "Please convey that I am here if she wishes to speak to me, though I do believe she may rather come to you for that."

Professor McGonagall just nodded at this last bit of information before she moved to leave the room, leaving Professor Dumbledore to see to his arrangements for Miss Granger to leave the school early this year for grieving.

* * *

"Ah Xander," Giles smiled at the young man as he opened the door and stepped aside wordlessly with an invitation inside. "Good."

"Hey, what's the what?" Xander asked with a smile as he walked into the main room of Giles' place to find Buffy and Willow already sat there on his couch.

"Well, now you are all here I can begin," Giles smiled softly as he took a seat opposite where Buffy and Willow had sat down, and where Xander was now perched on the arm of the sofa next to Willow.

"I wanted to tell you all together, so there would be no calls of favouritism or the such," Giles started to explain. "I have come to quite enjoy all of your company over the last several years, and it would be amiss for me to leave without at least saying something."

"Leave?" Buffy was the first one to voice her thoughts. "You can't leave Giles, I need you here."

"Kind of you to say Buffy," Giles smiled at her. "But the truth is, you haven't needed me for quite some time now. You are your own woman, your own Slayer. There is little else I can teach you now."

"But… where are you going?" Willow asked in a quiet voice, the thought of losing Giles, the man who had practically been a mentor to her, scaring her more than she would like to admit.

"I have to return home," Giles explained sadly. "There was… an accident; my sister and her husband were killed. Their daughter is the only family I have left now, and she will need me more than any of you do now."

Willow just nodded at this, not knowing quite what to say. Even Buffy seemed a little shocked and saddened by this, her petulant outburst earlier now put in its place by Giles explaining why he had to leave.

"Back to the motherland then Giles?" Xander nodded with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes, quite," Giles smiled at him, nodding towards him in thanks for the attempt to diffuse the small amount of tension in the room. "I confess I will miss you all greatly, and if I could stay, I would."

"Its family," Buffy said with a small smile. "You'll write though right, and call, they have phones there right?"

"It's England Buffy, not the stone age," Xander grinned at her.

"Quite," Giles smiled at the fact that Xander had defended his home country for once instead of mocking it. "I will of course send you all information on how to contact me should the need arise, I will still be there for you all if you should need me. This is just something…"

"We get it Giles," Willow said with a smile. "Like Buffy said, its family. So you're like your niece's guardian now?"

"Yes, I would suppose so," Giles smiled as he took off his glasses and started polishing them with his shirt. "Though I should imagine after looking after you three for this many years, one teenager shouldn't be that much of a problem."

"A teenage girl?" Xander grinned at him. "You have my sympathies."

"Yes, well," Giles frowned over at him, though truthfully he had been thinking the same thing. He had no idea how to take care of a fourteen year old girl, the closest thing to a daughter he had ever had was Buffy, and he didn't take charge of her until she was sixteen. He didn't even know if his niece would remember him at all, it had been that long since he had actually visited or spoken to his sister.

"Oh, how old is she?" Willow asked enthusiastically.

"Fourteen I believe," Giles smiled at her. "Yes, she would have been fourteen earlier this year."

"She lost her mom and dad at the same time?" Buffy asked in a small voice, not wanting to upset Giles over the loss of his sister any more than it had already obviously affected him.

"A car accident," Giles nodded slowly. "Hermione was away at school when it happened; I'm told she attends a boarding school in Scotland somewhere."

"Hermione?" Xander asked, turning the name into a question. "Do all you people have such weird names?"

"Xander!" Willow huffed, reaching over to slap him on the arm for such a question.

"Hey, it's a valid question," Xander shouted, moving away from Willow's incoming hand and nearly falling off his perch as he did so.

"Her name comes from Shakespeare if you must know," Giles said wearily, having already known that Xander, if not Buffy, would have asked about her name sooner or later. It wasn't exactly a household name in England, and one he had never heard of being used in America so far. So it was natural they would be curious about the unusual name.

"When do you have to go?" Buffy asked, looking up from where she had been staring at the floor in thought.

"I have arranged a flight for Friday evening," Giles said with a small nod.

"But… but that's in two days," Willow exclaimed.

"There are things that need attending to," Giles said sadly. "Her husband, Tony, was an only child. As such, it falls on me to arrange things for Hermione. It wouldn't be kind to leave things such as funeral arrangements to a young girl, bad enough she has to experience this kind of loss so young, I would not leave her to deal with this alone for any longer than necessary."

Buffy, Willow and Xander all nodded at this, not knowing what else to say. There was nothing they really could say to that, it was the sort of thing they'd never even thought about, how to plan a funeral, everything that comes with it, how to arrange everything and deal with solicitors and such.

Willow was the first one to act, standing up from where she was sitting she moved over to stand in front of Giles and leaned down to pull him into a hug. "I'm sure you'll be a great dad Giles." She said as she hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," Giles let out a small laugh as he stood up to hug her back. "I will miss you all, even you Xander." He smiled as Buffy and Xander moved forwards, Buffy including herself in the hug first while Xander stood back awkwardly. "You will all take care of course, and contact me should you need me."

"You too Giles," Buffy said as she hugged him tightly, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall freely. "If you need us, just call and ask alright?"

"Thank you," Giles smiled as he hugged the two girls even tighter, moving his head so he could keep eye contact with Xander even though he wasn't including himself in the hug. "You are all more than I could have hoped for, I'm so proud of how strong you have all turned out." He smiled as tears started to fall from his own eyes.

Even Xander's eyes were starting to get teary as the group hugged as shared their feelings for the first time in what felt like years, they were family, maybe not by blood, but by everything else that mattered.

Organising a group dinner for the next day came easily for them, one last get together before Giles left. Giles had made them all promise it would be a happy affair, not filled with tearful goodbyes or asking him to stay. He knew they would all respect this, he had a new family to consider now, and one young girl who would need him more than his chosen family did now. And he would be there for her no matter what.

* * *

Professor McGonagall swept through the halls of Hogwarts, for the first time since school began actually ignoring any students who were in the halls or talking when they should have been studying or in class.

All she was thinking about was how to break the news to Miss Granger, she'd gone over the words several times in her mind, trying to find the right way to say it, but no matter how she tried to reword it, it always came out the same.

There was little she could do about it though, merely cushioning the blow and offering to be there for her when she broke down, as she knew she would. In a situation like this, there was not much else to be done, the news had to be broken to her, and there were only so many ways you could tell a young girl that he parents were both in a fatal accident without it seeming like you were beating around the bush.

She paused outside the room for a moment, knowing full well that Hermione was in there, with Harry and Ron no doubt, sitting towards the front of the class with Professor Lupin learning about the dark arts.

She took a deep breath, composing herself before opening the door and moving quietly inside the room. The subject matter for the day appeared to be vampires, the different kinds of vampires were illustrated on the blackboard at the front of the room, with moving pictures depicting the various types of vampire the students might encounter, from the demonic variety through to the Transylvanian pure blood vampires, and finally the sparkling, glittery 'Tinkerbelle vampires' as Professor Lupin had named them, with an accompanying photo of a male vampire in sunlight, shining like a disco ball and preening towards another man.

"Professor McGonagall, is there something you needed?" Professor Lupin asked from the front of the class, breaking her out of her thoughts and causing all the students in the class room to turn around to look at her.

"Might I borrow Miss Granger please," McGonagall announced clearly. "Bring your bags and books please." She said before stepping out of the room before anyone else could say anything.

"Well, it seems you are on reprieve from today's test Hermione," Professor Lupin smiled at her. "Though the homework for today is two pieces of parchment about the different varieties of vampire and how to defend yourself from each of them."

"Thank you sir," Hermione nodded as she collected her books and put them inside her bag. Both Ron and Harry were looking at her, wondering why she had been called out of the class room. It was very unusual for another professor to interrupt another class, especially to call a student out of the middle of one.

The entire class watched quietly as Hermione walked up through the centre of the room towards the back door where she slipped out quietly.

"Now, where were we?" Professor Lupin smiled as he got back to the lecture at hand. "Yes, the types of vampire and how to detect them. Can any of you give me three ways to detect any one of these types of vampire?" He asked, looking around the class as a few hands shot up. "Yes Miss Amber?"

A pretty blonde girl at the back of the class stood up, her robes showing she belonged to Slytherin. "The demonic variety, they're repelled by crosses, holy water and fire."

"Good good," Lupin smiled. "Now, can any of you tell me, which of these three does not affect one of the other types?"

Only one or two hands came up slowly this time, not as sure or enthusiastic as before. "Mr Edwards?" He asked, looking at a Gryffindor boy in the second row.

"Holy water sir, it doesn't affect the glitter vampires,"

"Absolutely correct," Professor Lupin nodded with a smile, causing the student to let out a sigh of relief. "Holy water doesn't affect the Tinkerbelle variety of vampire, nor are they affected by sunlight. It's widely believed, hence the name, this is because they are not true vampires, merely a sub species of muggle that bred with…"

His words died off as a cry of anguish came from outside, followed by the unmistakable sound of crying, crying and screaming 'why' at such a volume that it permeated through the thick wooden doors of the room.

Both Ron and Harry immediately snapped their heads around to the door, knowing instinctively that it was Hermione's voice and crying they could hear. Both of them torn between running to their friend's aid and respecting her enough to leave her until the class was over so they could find out what had happened in private.

They both knew Hermione wouldn't want her business going around the school like common gossip, so for now they both stayed in their seats, waiting for the end of the class so they could go and find out what had happened. Both of them were trying to figure out exactly what had happened that could make Hermione cry like that, the last time either of them had seen her cry was when Ron had upset her in their first year, and even then it hadn't been that loud or emotional.

"Bet its Malfoy," Ron whispered over. "He's probably done something; you know what he's like."

Harry just shook his head back, he knew that sound, that cry, that tone of scream. It was one of loss, not just an emotional response. Something told him something was very wrong here, and that Hermione would need them both to be there for her, whatever it was that had happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Giles let out a soft sigh as he settled into the plane seat for the long flight back to England. Everything was taken care of, his belongings were boxed up and being shipped back to his family home the next week via courier service. He'd only arranged for the essentials to be brought over, his books, clothing and guitar, a few personal affects. While he hadn't set foot in his family home for over fifteen years now he knew it would have been taken care of in his absence for his eventual return.

The last time he'd actually been home was for his father's funeral, after that he'd locked the place away. Throwing dust sheets over all the furniture and making sure the premises were secured with locks as well as the standard spells for all Watchers ancestral homes.

He'd made sure the small flat he owned in Sunnydale was paid up, offering it to Xander and the girls to use. He knew they would take care of it, and that way he knew he would have somewhere to return to should he ever be needed back in Sunnydale.

That way Xander had a place to call his own and could move out of his parent's basement at last, giving him a bit more security while finding his own way in the world. Buffy or Willow would more than likely move in there with him, a way to save money through their first year of college, it was the least he could do for them all.

It wasn't long until his thoughts returned to little Hermione, fishing his wallet out of his pocket he unfolded the photo he had of her. It was an old one but the only one he had of her. It must have been taken when she was about five or six, her brown bushy hair waved out and past her shoulders, while his sister Sarah, and her husband stood in the background, both with their arms around her, the pride as she showed off her certificate for first prize in the junior school science fair.

He wiped a stray tear away as he ran his thumb along the face of his sister; he hadn't spoken to her in so long, now he would never get the chance again. He would do the right thing by her though, take Hermione in and give her the best life he could. She was his responsibility now, and while he'd never actually had a family of his own, he knew he would do everything he could to protect the young girl who was now in his care.

He assumed Hermione's school had been contacted and been made aware of the situation, aside from the brief contact with Detective Todd and another lengthy call with the Granger family lawyers regarding their home, guardianship of Hermione and other arrangements, he hadn't actually been given that much information about Hermione or the school she attended.

He did hope however that she had been notified, as he wouldn't like to have to be the one to explain what had happened to her. He wasn't even sure if she even knew about him; he'd spoken to Sarah a few times in letters and on the phone, but had never spoken to Hermione directly. Given how awkward the situation was going to be, the thought of having to break the news to her about her family would make it almost unbearable.

"Good afternoon, this is your pilot speaking,"

Giles raised his eyebrow at the cheery sounding voice coming over the plane intercom, drawing his thoughts away from his young niece and her family.

"We expect to be landing in London on schedule, wind conditions are favourable and flight time should be just under eleven hours."

Giles nodded at this information as the plane started to level off from its take-off thrust. The plane was happily quite empty; it seemed not that many people wanted to go to England just before winter hit, so he'd been able to book a relatively cheap flight with room to spare.

Allowing himself room to stretch out he fished his carry-on bag from where he'd stowed it underneath his chair, placing it on the chair next to him so he could fish out a book from inside. The bag had several of his favourite books inside, along with some journals he could work on translating for the long journey over.

Opening the first page of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' he tried to loose himself in the words, knowing it was Sarah's favourite book and play made it the obvious choice to read as he made his way back to England, that and it was quite lengthy so it should take him at least a few hours to make his way through the entire first edition, including play notes and directions.

Sadly the book didn't hold his attention as much as he could have hoped, the words and overall flow of the play kept reminding him of Sarah, how they'd used to read to each other growing up, how they always used to love going to the theatre together and rebelling against their father.

He'd finally relented and gone back to the family, becoming a Watcher like his father had always wanted, it was his deathbed request so to speak, so it was something he felt honour bound to fulfil. Sarah had found her escape; she had been living a wonderful life as a dentist, such a normal job. A loving husband who worked with her, their own dental practice and a daughter.

Sarah had been blessed with everything that he had wished for her, and secretly still wished for himself. A life away from family obligations, a life of her own. He hadn't even seen her at their father's funeral, he'd made it perfectly clear that Sarah had been cut out of his life altogether, and while he had been welcomed back when he agreed to re-join the Watchers Council, Sarah had never been forgiven for walking away from the family.

He spent a lot of the flight wondering what Hermione was actually like. Had she inherited her parents' intelligence, her mother's whimsy and imagination? Or was she more into books like Tony always was and loved numbers and pure science, facts and figures that could be accounted and verified. Did she have a boyfriend at school, what subjects she was taking, had she even thought about her O-Level or GCSE subjects, as they were now called, yet?

So much was running through his brain that in the end he decided to just close the book, reclining back in the chair he just watched the view go by outside, what little there was of it at this altitude. Letting his thoughts drift back to growing up with Sarah, giving her away at her wedding, his pride in her when she'd graduated university and founded her own practice.

The happy memories came easily for him as he drifted to sleep, fully intending to sleep all the way through to Heathrow so his body clock wouldn't be too far out from the time zone there. Dreaming of memories and what his niece was like, the dreams formed of a happy, confidant young girl, fully immersed in books at a normal school, happy in life, with good friends and not a care in the world.

* * *

"Ahh Miss Granger, do come in," Dumbledore smiled from behind his desk as he saw Hermione knocking at his ajar door timidly.

"You sent for me professor?" Hermione asked as she came into the room, her book bag left in her room this time as she was on a free period.

"Yes, yes, I wanted to inform you that arrangements have been made for you to return home next week." Dumbledore explained.

"Sir?" Hermione questioned. "What about school?"

"Your teachers have agreed to send work by owl, they are all confident that you should have no problems passing this year with the work you have done already. Tests can be arranged to be held at the Ministry headquarters at the end of this year." Dumbledore explained with a sad smile. "I do believe a lot of the teachers will miss you though."

"Sir, I can…" Hermione started to protest but was cut off by Dumbledore raising his hand.

"The reason for this, is that due to muggle and wizard law, you are still too young to be here without consent from your guardian." Dumbledore smiled at her reassuringly as he explained. "Your parents signed your invitation to attend Hogwarts at the start of your first year, normally that would be enough."

Hermione just nodded, another painful reminder that her mum and dad were now dead. As if she didn't have enough reminders already, the photo of them all together as a family beside her bed was enough to send her to tears most nights.

"The Ministry has learned that muggle law has passed guardianship to your uncle," Dumbledore said as he picked a piece of parchment off his desk and looked at it over his half-moon glasses. "He should be arriving in England this week."

"My uncle?" Hermione asked, wide eyed. She couldn't remember any uncles; her dad didn't have any brothers or sisters, and Grandma and Grandpa Granger died when she was young. Her mum never spoke about her family, so she'd just assumed that she didn't have any either. She'd never met anyone from her mum's side of the family, no uncles, aunts or grandparents stuck out as ever visiting or being mentioned. "Arriving?"

"Hmm, a Doctor Rupert Giles," Dumbledore nodded as he read the name from the parchment. "A muggle professor of some description, your mothers' brother it seems." He smiled before reading down the parchment a few inches. "It seems he lives in America by all accounts, though is moving back to England to take care of you."

Hermione just nodded at this, not knowing what else to say. She didn't even know she had an uncle before, now she was going to live with him. A muggle as well, did he even know about wizards and witches, even have any clue about magic at all.

"Professor McGonagall will go with you," Dumbledore smiled at her. "Monday morning, that will give you the weekend to spend with your friends before you leave."

"Thank you professor," Hermione said in a small voice, not trusting her voice to go any higher in case it broke with sobs.

"She will approach the subject of magic and your continued education with Mister Giles," Dumbledore explained. "I know this is a difficult time for you Miss Granger, so if there is anything I can do to help, don't hesitate to call upon me."

"Thank you sir," Hermione nodded in the same small voice. "Is that all?"

"Of course," Dumbledore smiled at her. "My door is always open should you need to talk, I'm sure Professor McGonagall has told you the same."

He nodded towards her as she graced him with a small smile before leaving the office, closing the door behind her as she left. Thoughts about her uncle and how he was going to react to having a witch in the family were now in forefront of her mind, what he like was, what would it be like living with him. Could he handle having a witch as a niece or would he freak out like Harry's aunt and uncle had done. Where were they going to live as well, would he be moving in to her parents' house with her, or did he have his own house here. The fact he'd come over from America as soon as he'd heard lent credence to the idea that he had his own place over here, but aside from what the thought and could piece together, she knew absolutely nothing about the man she was just being handed over to.

She couldn't help but imagine what he was like, and why her mum had never mentioned him to her as she walked back to the Gryffindor common room. Her mum must have had a good reason not to talk about him with her, or she would have talked about him before.

Had she ever received a letter from him, a phone call, a Christmas card? She couldn't remember ever receiving one from any uncles, though the name uncle Rupert was ringing a bell somewhere in the back of her mind, a vague memory from when she was younger, nothing that she could remember for definite though.

She froze mid step as she turned to another corridor, did he even know about her, did he know he was her niece, what if her mum had never told him about her either. Or was he as smart as her mum was, Professor Dumbledore said he was a professor of some sort and called him Doctor, did that mean he was a teacher somewhere, maybe he taught at a school in America, or would he expect her to move to America with him.

All these questions and more raced through her mind as she forced herself to keep walking towards the common room, her brain racing as she tried to picture what her uncle Rupert was like, she couldn't even picture him in her mind. He was her mum's brother, so he probably looked like her somewhat, but nothing was jumping out in her mind about him. She was left with just her imagination to fill in all the gaps about a man she'd been told precious little about, and who she was going to meet and live with, in just two days' time.

* * *

Giles frowned as he stepped out of the airport into the cold London air. It was only late November but the chill was already starting to set in, making him wish he'd worn a thicker coat than his normal clothing he'd got used to after so many years in Sunnydale.

Trailing his suitcase behind him and pulling his carry-on bag tighter on his shoulder he moved through the crowd of people at the airport entrance towards one of the many black taxi's that were parked up waiting for people to wave them forward. Picking one with their lights on he nodded at the driver before opening the back door and climbing inside, pulling his suitcase in afterwards. Thankfully, as with all airport taxi's, there was plenty of room for him and the suitcase in the back with the seats folded up.

"Where to?" The driver asked, leaning around to smile at Giles through the Plexiglas barrier.

"Camden please," Giles instructed the driver, smiling at the warmth blowing through the taxi from the air vents along the side of the doors. "North that is." He verified.

"Gotcha," The driver nodded as he started the engine. "Been away then? Business, holiday?"

"Business," Giles confirmed as he settled down in the back seat while the driver pulled out of the airport parking area and started to drive out onto the main road. "It's been a while." He smiled as he got used to the warmth and shrugged his coat off so he would be more thankful of its warmth when he put it back on to leave the taxi.

"Where ya been then mate?" The driver asked as he pulled onto the main motorway heading towards London.

"Sunnydale, close to Los Angeles," Giles explained, thankful for the pleasant conversation on the drive there.

"Shoulda stayed mate," The driver laughed. "Word is we've got a nasty winter coming."

"So I can feel," Giles smiled back. "Would you mind the radio, I would like to hear the news if that's alright with you."

"Sure mate," The driver nodded as he turned the dial on the radio and turned it up so that the sound could be heard in the passenger section as well. "Any preference?"

"BBC two please," Giles asked respectfully as he heard the tell-tale noise of the radio being tuned in.

"Ahh the classics," The driver smiled as the soft tones of Lynyrd Skynyrd's song 'Free Bird' filled the taxi.

"Thankfully so," Giles smiled as he got comfortable for the journey and just listened to the music, settling in until he needed to give directions to the family estate when they were closer to Camden town.

* * *

"Are you ready Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked as she walked into the Gryffindor common room to find Hermione hugging Ron and Harry.

Hermione just turned around and nodded before turning back to the boys. "Owl me, you both promise right."

"Of course," Harry nodded with a small smile. "You know you can talk to me right, about anything."

"I know," Hermione smiled at him and pulled him in for another hug. "I'll owl as soon as I'm settled in, I don't know what's going to be happening so…"

"We'll wait," Harry nodded. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," Hermione nodded with a smile at the two of them. "And you two try and stay out of trouble without me around."

"You know how likely that is," Ron laughed at her good naturedly.

"If you'd come with me Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall re-announced her presence. "We do have to stop off at the Ministry first."

"Well, I'll see you," Hermione smiled at them both before picking up her bags, along with the carrycase for Crookshanks, and moving to follow Professor McGonagall out of the common room and into the main hallway.

"You may not be gone long," Professor McGonagall said to her reassuringly as she led her down to corridor towards Professor Dumbledore's study. "If your new guardian is amiable, perhaps you can return to Hogwarts once things have settled down."

"You think?" Hermione asked, a bit of hope shining in her eyes that she wouldn't be without her friends or school for too long.

"I don't see why not," McGonagall smiled down at her. "Until then however, I expect you to continue on with the work set to you by your teachers and owl back the work on deadline."

"Of course professor," Hermione nodded, though the words didn't really sink in. Her brain was still thinking about the man she was due to meet in a couple of days' time. She'd asked Professor Dumbledore if it would be alright to leave on the Saturday evening, to have some time to herself to arrange things before she met her uncle, that way she could be sure that her parents' house was clear of any magical items that would give away their secret.

Professor Dumbledore had agreed, even though he reassured her that any magical items had already been cleared and stored away by the Ministry Muggle Relations department in case the muggle police chose to investigate their house. But had allowed her the choice to leave early anyway, stating that as long as Professor McGonagall could stay with her until she met her uncle and explained everything to him, then she was free to return home.

Hermione's mind was full of ideas about what her uncle was like, ever since Professor McGonagall had broken the news about her parents to her, she'd clung on to the idea of her uncle like a lifeline, the only family she had left. She'd invented entire stories for him, where he was married, taught astronomy at an American college. He was kind and gentle like her mum, and a dreamer who believed in magic.

Every fantasised history she came up with for the man seemed more believable than the next and she was halfway through the latest one where Uncle Rupert was a professor of ancient history and taught at colleges all over America when she noticed they were already in front of the giant golden eagle marking the entrance to Dumbledore's study and Professor McGonagall was saying the password ready for them to go up.

"Do you think he'll like me?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice as Professor McGonagall reached down to help her with some of her bags. "My uncle I mean."

"Oh of that I've no doubt," Professor McGonagall smiled down at her as she started moving up the stairs ahead of Hermione. "You're intelligent, pretty and funny, I see no reason why Professor Giles wouldn't like you." She reassured her as they reached the top of the stairs and Professor McGonagall pushed open the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Ahh good, I see you are both ready," Professor Dumbledore smiled as he stood up from behind his desk and made his way to the middle of the room to greet them both. "I have arranged for your classes to be covered until Wednesday Minerva, if you require any more time, let me know."

"Thank you," Professor McGonagall smiled at him briefly with a nod.

"Thank you for this professor," Hermione said, smiling up at the headmaster. Professor Dumbledore had done all he could to help make this time as painless as it could be for her, and she was thankful in ways she couldn't even begin to express.

"The least we could do my child," Dumbledore smiled back at her. "You will owl of course if you need anything, from either of us, in the future, whatever it should hold."

"Of course professor," Hermione nodded with a small smile as the reason for her leaving Hogwarts flooded back into her mind.

"We should be going," Professor McGonagall nodded towards the fireplace. "We have the Ministry to take care of first before we go to your home Miss Granger."

"The Ministry?" Hermione asked as Dumbledore moved over to the fireplace to check something with the floo powder.

"Why yes," Professor McGonagall nodded as she picked up the bags again that she had carried up the stairs. "There are things to be taken care of, I suppose it can wait if you feel, but I believe it would be best to get these things over and done with if you feel strong enough. Lest they interfere with life with your uncle before we have had chance to explain."

"You're right professor," Hermione nodded, wondering what sort of things she had to sort out. As far as she knew, everything her parents did was through muggle means, so would she have to sort those out separately or was her uncle doing that, or had they been forwarded to the Ministry for her to take care of there? So many questions and precious little answers. She found herself moving towards the fireplace without even thinking about it, almost on autopilot like she had been the last few days.

"The Atrium!" Professor McGonagall called out as she threw her handful of floo powder on the floor and disappeared in a flash of emerald fire.

"I'm sure you will be fine," Dumbledore reassured her as he placed a hand on her shoulder and bent down on one knee to be on the same level as her. "Should you need me, feel free to owl any time you wish."

"Thank you professor," Hermione said, forgetting herself for a moment as she leaned forwards and hugged the headmaster, tears forming in her eyes as he hugged her back, his hand rubbing her back in a tender gesture she'd never seen from the older man before. "I should…"

"Yes, I believe Professor McGonagall will be waiting," Professor Dumbledore smiled as he stood back up. "You have everything I trust?"

"Yes professor," Hermione nodded as she made sure her bag was carefully attached around her shoulders before picking up Crookshanks carrycase that Professor McGonagall had left for her to carry.

"Then I bid you a safe journey," Professor Dumbledore smiled as he used his hand to guide her towards the fireplace where she picked a fist full of floo powder from the golden cauldron next to the main alcove.

"Goodbye professor, and thank you, for everything." Hermione said with a small smile as more tears began to form in her eyes, before throwing the floo powder on the floor and announcing 'The Atrium' clearly before vanishing from the office.

* * *

Giles sighed to himself as the taxi pulled away, the rough tires kicking up some of the gravel from the driveway to the private home Giles had directed him to.

Pulling his coat back on he felt for the keys that he knew would be in the right hand side pocket, the weight of them made it obvious they were there but he felt better after reaching inside and pulling out the bunch of metal anyway.

The rain was falling freely now as he made his way up the steps to the house, his father's house, his family house. With the sun slowly rising over the horizon signalling the new day and casting a soft orange glow on the white stone of the steps, it was still early, perhaps not even past eight in the morning yet, and here he was stood outside the house he hadn't stepped foot in since his father's funeral, regardless of the fact it belonged to him now.

Watcher families were notoriously tight with their money, spending it on luxurious accommodations, frivolous past times and wasteful luxuries. Sadly his great grandfather, his grandfather and his father had been no exception to the rule. The 'house', if you could call it that, was old, pre Victorian definitely, with a lavish stone walkway leading up from the grounds to the main house entrance. He already knew what the insides of the house would be like, no one would have been inside the large house since he was last there and sealed it up.

White dustsheets would be over much of the furniture, the electricity, gas and water having been turned off for over fifteen years now. He'd called ahead to reactivate all the utilities and hoped they had done so, failing that he could always find a hotel to stay in until the house was liveable again.

So what surprised him about the house was that he could see a light coming faintly from inside the house, through one of the large windows that looked in to one of the study areas. Squinting he could easily see a shadow moving pass the light, blocking it every so often.

Narrowing his eyes he made sure he had the right key to the main door and walked up to the main entrance, ready to confront whoever was inside the house. By all rights no one should be here, when he'd abandoned it he'd made sure that none of the other Watcher families had use of it either, it was his home, his family's home. Just because he wasn't using it and was frankly offended by the amount of money that had gone into it while Slayer's were forced to fight the evils of the world while fending for themselves. It didn't give anyone else the right to just go inside and use it for their own ends.

Placing his palm on the door he frowned as his senses told him the wards were still up, that meant whoever was inside had more than ample magic to avoid detection from the wards themselves and more than likely could defend themselves with magic as well.

"Amitto," Giles whispered as he moved his hand across the main doorway, disable the wards around the house. Without pausing he pressed the key into the lock quietly and silently turned the handle to open the door.

It was all too easy to slip inside and close the door without making any noise, quietly he stepped to the side where he knew the shadow of the main staircase would hide him as he slipped off his bag and gently put the suitcase down, careful not to make any noise as he did so.

Keeping his coat on for the moment he gently edged around the staircase, surprised to find that some of the dustsheets had been removed from the furniture and decorations, though in this one case it would serve to his ends. Reaching up with one hand to steady the coat of arms against the wooden plated wall he quickly and quietly pulled one of the rapiers free, grimacing slightly as the sound of metal on metal made the blade sing gently as it came free from its housing.

Careful not to make any more noise he removed his hand from the coat of arms, letting it move back to its natural position on the wall as he stepped away and examined the sword. It wasn't in the best of condition; even in the dim light he could see nicks and scratches on the blade from various practice sessions. His father always did insist on fencing practice three times a week, and the rapier was his preference over a foil.

Shaking his head away from the memories that collected of him practicing with his father, he pushed on, moving silently through the main study area where the light way brighter now, coming from a doorway to his left and down the hall somewhere.

He gripped the rapier tightly, not knowing what to expect, burglars, demons, another watcher family squatting in his family home. All ideas rushed by without any credence or proof to any of them.

Stepping down the corridor his memory came flooding back, remembering his childhood how him and Sarah would play around the halls, running and chasing each other with various toys or cantrips taught to him by his father. Strangely he didn't remember Sarah ever being taught anything like that, she was more interested in normal studies and fought their father on every level at learning about the Watchers Council or their family 'honour', as he always called it.

The layout of the house was now fresh in his mind as he remembered his childhood cleanly for the first time in years, walking quietly down the corridor he was now sure the light was coming from the kitchen, an idea given more credence as he leaned back to see the doorway where the light was coming from, with the light reflecting brightly off the white marble flooring. He knew every other room in the house had oak or mahogany panelled floor, much like the walls. The kitchen was only marbled as it was easier to clean and set it apart from the rest of the house.

Leaning around the doorway he could see a form against the far side of the room, working on something or other against a worktop there. The figure was clad in a dark green raincoat with medium length hair that was slick from the rain. Whoever it was, they'd obviously not been there much longer than he had.

Steeling himself ready to confront the intruder he stepped quietly forward, raising the blade as he did so, another step forward and the blade was level with the intruder's neck level with their shoulders. He cast a quick glance around to make sure there was no one else around before taking the final step towards the intruder and laying the rapier blade forcefully on their shoulder, the bladed edge pointing cleanly towards their neck.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my home?" Giles demanded forcefully as the intruder became as still as a statue.

"Rupert?" The intruder asked, though his back was still turned to Giles so he couldn't see who the figure was.

"Marcus?" Giles asked cautiously, stepping sideways slowly so he could see the face of the man intruding in his family home.


	3. Chapter 3

"Again, you have my condolences as this time Miss Granger," The official at the Muggle Relations desk smiled softly as Hermione as she handed across the paperwork that had just been filled in.

It had taken an hour or so to get through all of the things that needed doing; it was all minor things though. As Hermione was part of the wizarding community, all deeds and bequeathment's had to go through the Ministry office instead of the usual muggle lawyers.

The paperwork she'd just been through and signed basically just helped the Ministry along; they already had a law firm on retainer that worked with both the Ministry and muggle law firms to serve as an intermediary between the two.

"Thank you," Hermione nodded as she put the copies of the paperwork she'd received back into her back and made sure they were safely tucked away. There were things here that she had absolutely no idea about, family entitlements, blood protection, beqeathment taxes and offers to help on funeral arrangements from Mr Weasley. There was just so much to go through that she honestly didn't know where to start, it was more than just overwhelming, and even though she'd only been here an hour it felt like she was burnt out from it already.

"Well I believe that should conclude your business here Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall smiled softly at her as she stood up from her seat and made her way over. She'd sat aside from the official counter to give the young girl some privacy to deal with these things, but had made it clear that if she needed the help then she would come over and offer what assistance she could.

"I'd like to go home now professor," Hermione said in a tired voice as she walked over.

"Of course child," Professor McGonagall nodded softly. "I had the forethought of requesting your home address temporarily added to the floo network for this week, it should make things easier."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled gently, touched by this simple gesture that she wouldn't have thought of otherwise. She was just going to get a train then a taxi home, but a floo would make it so much quicker and easier.

"Come, we should get you home to rest, I doubt you've been sleeping well and today must have been more tiring than expected." Professor McGonagall said as she led Hermione away from the Muggle Relations department and back to the main transportation room where they could get back up to the Atrium from.

"Thank you professor, for being here, and helping out," Hermione said as they walked after a few moments silence.

"Oh no need to thank me Miss Granger, I would do the same for any of my students." Professor McGonagall explained with a small smile.

"I know, it's just…" Hermione tried to explain as they walked but couldn't find the words, the tears started to fall without her even realising and she had to stop in the middle of the hallway and put the cat carrycase down in case she dropped it through trembling fingers. "It's not fair, why, why them? I miss them so much." She burst out between sobs, her tears flowing freely as she knelt down in the Ministry hallway and pushed herself up against one of the walls.

"Hush child…" Professor McGonagall whispered as she put the bags down she had been carrying and knelt down beside her, pulling the young girl into a protective hug. "Hush," She whispered again as she held her, some tears of her own starting to build up in her eyes as she thought about everything the young girl would have to go through in the coming weeks.

"I miss them so much," Hermione wept out, reaching around the hugging Professor McGonagall back, not caring about the tears that were now streaming down her face and matting her hair to her cheeks.

"I know," Professor McGonagall whispered back, not knowing what else to say to comfort her. "I know child."

* * *

"Marcus?" Giles asked again in shock as he took another step around towards the counter so he could verify the identity of the strange man in his house.

"Rupert," The man whispered back, still not moving an inch either way with the sword currently pressed against his throat. "Or still Ripper?"

"Marcus!" Giles laughed, pulling the sword back away from the man's shoulders, careful not to cut the skin on his neck as he did so. "What in god's name are you doing here?"

"I live here, or have you forgotten?" Marcus said, absentmindedly rubbing his neck with his hand, the sandwich he had been making now lay on the sideboard forgotten.

"With your dad?" Giles smiled as he put the sword down on the central worktop island in the kitchen. "Stephen right, is he still here?"

"He died, four years ago," Marcus said softly, crossing himself with his right hand as he did in a gesture of remembrance.

"I'm sorry," Giles said softly.

"You greet all your guests with a sword then, or am I special?" Marcus laughed as he reached over to flick the kettle on.

"You surprised me," Giles defended himself with a small smile. "Besides, what are you even doing here; I thought you moved away with your dad after the funeral." He thought back to his father's funeral, not actually remembering what Stephen had said he was going to do.

Stephan had been the groundskeeper for the house for as long as Giles could remember, a long-time friend of his fathers as well. He and Marcus had a small bungalow on the far side of the grounds past the paddock, but he'd just assumed that they'd moved away when he'd closed the house down.

"Dad stayed on," Marcus explained. "He said he liked the place, didn't want to move. He tried to get in touch with you, to ask what you wanted to do with the place, but he couldn't find you. The Council wouldn't tell him anything, and without you around to authorise anything…" He just trailed off with a shrug.

"So you stayed afterwards and continued on," Giles nodded with a small smile. "It's definitely good to see you old friend." He laughed gently before reaching forward and pulling him into a loose hug.

"You too," Marcus returned the hug with a smile. "Tea?" He asked as the kettle clicked off.

"Love one," Giles nodded as he stepped back.

"I figured you'd be coming back," Marcus explained as he fished too mugs out of the cupboard by his knees. "Was just checking the place over earlier when one of the security lights flashed on, haven't seen them working since you locked the place up."

"I turned the gas, electricity and water back on yesterday morning," Giles explained as he moved across the kitchen to get some milk out of the fridge.

"Thought so," Marcus nodded. "Stocked up on the basics earlier, thought you'd be here sooner or later."

"Thank you," Giles smiled as he opened the fridge to find it thankfully well stocked with everything he would need for the next few days. "You didn't have to do this you know." He said as he moved back to the center island and put the milk in the middle while Marcus poured the boiling water into a small white tea pot to let it brew.

"Ahh," Marcus waved it off with a snort. "Was already here, figured it was the least I could do." He smiled as he brought the tea pot over before returning to the side worktop to bring over the tea strainer and two mugs. "So what brings you back then, been, what, thirteen years or so?"

"Closer to fifteen," Giles said with a grimace as he went over to the bread bin and brought out some crackers before retrieving some butter and cheese from the fridge. "It's Sarah."

"How is the girl, god, haven't thought about her in years. Haven't seen her since she went off to college," Marcus smiled as he reached down to bring out a plate for the crackers while Giles got a knife out.

"She died, Tuesday morning," Giles explained softly. He remembered Marcus having a crush on Sarah when they were younger; of course nothing ever came of it, their father made sure of that. No Watcher child will be seen dating the son of a groundskeeper, that was what he said every time he caught them alone. Giles was sure nothing had ever happened though, he never left them alone long enough for anything to happen, he made sure of that.

"Oh god, I didn't know," Marcus exclaimed. "Rupert, I'm so sorry. How…" He trailed off, not knowing how to ask the awkward question.

"A car crash," Giles explained quietly. "Her husband Tony was in the car as well, on their way to work I guess. The policeman that contacted me said that it was probably quick but wouldn't go into details."

"I'm sorry," Marcus said, a few tears collecting in his eyes already. "Is that why you're back then, the funeral?"

"I think it'll be slightly longer than that," Giles smiled softly, fishing out his wallet and the picture it contained before passing it over to Marcus. "Hermione, Sarah's daughter."

"God, she looks just like her," Marcus smiled as he looked at the photo, a young girl with soft brown hair, just as wild as Sarah's had been growing up.

"She's fourteen now," Giles explained as Marcus handed the picture back.

"The poor girl, I can't imagine what she's going through." Marcus said softly as he started pouring the tea through the strainer into the two mugs.

"You won't have to for long," Giles said as he pushed the wallet back into his trouser pocket. "The solicitors contacted me Wednesday; I'm her only living relative."

This bit of news caused Marcus to stop short with the tea pot and put it back down gently. "Say that again mate?"

"Tony, Sarah's husband, didn't have any brothers or sisters apparently. His parents died several years back, and with both Sarah and Tony in the accident…" Giles trailed off as he picked up the tea pot to continue on where Marcus had left off.

"She's coming here?" Marcus asked as he watched Giles fill both mugs with tea before throwing the strainer towards the sink.

"I assume so," Giles nodded as he poured milk into each of the mugs to top it up. "I planned on going to the house on Monday, I've tried contacting the school she's boarding at but can't find any details on it."

"Poor girl," Marcus sighed as he took a sip of the hot tea. "What's she like, I didn't even know Sarah was married, let alone had a kid."

"I don't honestly know," Giles said with a small smile. "Sarah sent a few letters when she was younger, photos and the such, but nothing since that one. I haven't spoken to her or seen her in years."

"So does she…" Marcus trailed off, not having caught the girls name when it was mentioned.

"Hermione," Giles filled in for him with a smile.

"Hermione," Marcus said, testing the name on his tongue. "Sounds like Sarah already."

"She always did love that play," Giles smiled, thinking back to happy memories of growing up in the house with his sister, playing tag around the halls and arguing about who got the bigger bedroom and who got to spend more time in the paddock when they should have been studying for O-levels.

"Does Hermione even know about you then?" Marcus asked after a moment, letting Giles drift back into his own memories.

"I don't know," Giles answered honestly. "If Sarah mentioned me, or our father, she didn't tell me about it. I can't see a reason why she wouldn't have told her about her side of the family, though she did leave on bad terms with dad."

"I remember," Marcus laughed. "He was shouting and screaming, something about if she left for college not to bother coming back. He was throwing clothes out of her bedroom window for days afterwards."

"I thought he was going to burn them," Giles laughed. "He even sold of her colt, you remember, the bay one with the white stripe down his nose."

"Percy," Marcus laughed. "Yeah I remember, he didn't burn her clothes though, or pictures."

"Hmm?" Giles asked as he took another mouthful of the tea, thankful for having a proper cup after so many years being subjected to what Americans laughingly called tea over there.

"Dad saved them all, when he told him to burn them all out back; he just boxed them up and hid them in the cellar for when she did come back. He just burnt some old rags and leaves around the back to make him think he had done it all." Marcus explained with a smile.

"You mean…" Giles whispered out, thinking about all the childhood photos they had of them both together, the photos he'd thought had been burnt and destroyed long ago. "They're still here, downstairs?"

"Nah," Marcus grinned. "Had a bit of damp problem there a few years back, so I shifted them out to the outhouse where they'd be safe."

"You are a godsend," Giles laughed, reaching over and clasping Marcus' hand in his own. "You'll stay right; help me get this old place ready for Hermione to come."

"Like you'd even have to ask," Marcus laughed, tapping his old friend on the hand reassuringly. "She was as much family to me as she was to you Rupert, if her girl needs us, then we'll be there for her."

"Precisely," Giles nodded with a smile. "A teenage girl, we may be out of our depth here old friend." He laughed before taking another mouthful of the tea.

"Well the paddock's still serviceable," Marcus commented with a wry smile. "Only Claudia and Christian still there though."

"Claudia?" Giles nearly spat his tea over the worktop at this revelation. "You mean to say they're both still alive and well?"

"Yeah," Marcus nodded. "Never got into the hang of riding them myself, but they're both fit and healthy, let them out every day to run around the greens, they're good company."

"You've just made my day," Giles laughed contentedly as he pulled out a stool from under the worktop island and sat down on it wearily.

"We should clear up the library though," Marcus commented as he followed Giles' lead and pulled out a stool while Giles randomly sliced off a corner of the mature cheddar cheese to nibble on. "Don't want her getting in to your dads old books."

"Quite," Giles nodded, glancing at the rapier on the table as well. "Perhaps secure some of the décor as well." He laughed, tapping the sword blade. "Who knows what trouble a teenage girl can get into these days." He laughed to himself, quite sure that Sarah's little girl was a perfect angel who had never stepped foot wrong in her life.

"Yeah," Marcus grinned over as he sliced some cheese off for himself. "Should probably seal up the summoning room as well then." He grinned as Giles almost choked on the bit of cheese he was eating at the time.

"Probably best," Giles nodded after he'd recovered, sending a mild glare at Marcus who was just grinning at him.

"And the less said about your old bedroom the better," Marcus snorted, causing Giles to think back to the last time he'd actually stayed in his bedroom, his eyes widened as he realised the last time he'd actually been in this house for a period long enough to sleep in it, was when he was rebelling against his father through his 'Ripper' phase, and his bedroom was decorated to match. "Never know, maybe anarchist punk and the sex pistols are her thing."

"Somehow I doubt it," Giles smiled wryly at him, he'd actually thought his father would have ripped apart his bedroom for another library as soon as the chance became available, to think all his old pictures, posters and records would still be up there was amazing.

"Should probably take the handcuffs off the bed though," Marcus smiled innocently over. "And the candles, whips and whatever else you've still got hidden in there."

"Quite," Giles managed to say in-between coughing, a furious blush appearing on his cheeks as he remembered back what he was like in his wild days and what else could actually still be stored up there away from prying eyes.

* * *

It took Hermione more than a few minutes to get her baring's at first when she woke, her body and mind naturally waking at seven ready to get ready for school breakfast before classes started.

She just lay there in bed for a while at first, trying to wake up and pull together her mind. The facts were there in her brain it was just her brain was having a hard time reconciling them with her memory and admitting them as reality. She knew her parents were dead, she'd come home to meet her uncle and sort everything out with Professor McGonagall.

She remembered going to the Ministry yesterday morning, she assumed it was yesterday morning anyway; much of the rest of the day was a blur to her. She remembered breaking down in tears in the Ministry hallway with Professor McGonagall comforting her, then they'd come back here.

She'd been sorting through the papers the Ministry had given her, trying to actually work out what some of them were or what they actually pertained to. She could vaguely remember Professor McGonagall being fascinated by the microwave in her parent's kitchen and pressing the buttons at random.

Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs slightly she shifted under the duvet, causing Crookshanks to fall off where he had been sleeping on her legs.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione said as she reached down and scratched the ginger fur gently around Crookshanks' neck, causing the half-kneasle cat to purr and rub against her hand gently. "You feel it too huh?" She asked, lifting the cat up onto her chest where she scratched under its chin gently.

Crookshanks just meowed pitifully in response, moving past her hand and nuzzling the side of his face into Hermione's, causing his whiskers to tickle along Hermione's nose.

"Stop that," Hermione laughed playfully as she pushed her head back into the pillow to get away from the tickling fur. "I'm glad you're here furball," She said as she started stroking Crookshanks' back, causing the cat to settle down on her chest again and start vibrating with his purr. "The house just doesn't feel right anymore does it?"

Crookshanks just answered this with a big yawn, showing off his sharp teeth that he'd inherited from the kneasle side of his family.

"But eww, morning cat breath," Hermione winced and lifted the covers gently so as not to disturb Crookshanks while she slid out from underneath them to sit up on the side of the bed.

Looking around she was right in her earlier thoughts, the house just didn't feel right anymore. At this time her mum and dad should be bustling around getting ready for work, the radio would be on downstairs and the smell of breakfast would be wafting up the stairs as her dad made his usual beans on toast before they both headed out for work together.

Instead the house was silent, well, almost silent. She could make out some strange muffled noise coming from downstairs, but nothing coherent enough for her to figure out exactly what it was. Glancing down at herself she noted she was still in her jeans and woolly jumper from yesterday, her luggage in the corner of the room told her that he school robes and the rest of her clothes were still probably all packed away and she'd simply fallen asleep last night without getting ready for bed.

First things first though, she desperately needed a drink, her mouth was dry and her throat sore, probably from crying yesterday in Professor McGonagall's arms she noted to herself as she stood up from the bed and stretched.

Giving Crookshanks one last scratch on the head she moved out of her bedroom towards the stairs down to the main living room, firstly to investigate this muffled noise, and secondly to get a drink from the kitchen, she knew there wouldn't be pumpkin juice in the fridge, but hopefully some orange juice or Ribena still in the cupboards.

Of all the things she expected to find downstairs, what she did find was absolutely nowhere on that list whatsoever.

Professor McGonagall was sat on the couch, still in the robes she had worn yesterday, reading what appeared to be one of her mum's 'Hello' magazines. While over in the corner, there appeared to be what looked like some crudely constructed fort, made of dozens of cushions and throw rugs that she had never before seen in this house.

"Professor?" Hermione announced herself with a question as she walked into the living room from the stairway.

"Ah thanks the stars," Professor McGonagall said, smiling in a relieved fashion as she put the magazine down carefully. "Could you explain to me how to make this dreadful contraption cease making these confounded noises."

"Contraption?" Hermione asked, glancing over at the fort, this time she was it for what it actually was, it was her parents television, now effectively buried under numerous cushions and rugs, muting the sound somewhat though the glow of the screen still came through the sheets draped over the front of it and the sound was muffled but still audible.

She forced herself to hold back the laughter that threatened to bubble up from inside her as she crossed the living room and moved a few of the cushions aside to find the power button which she quickly flicked off, putting the TV in standby for the time being.

"God bless you child," Professor McGonagall smiled at her. "The noise it was making last night, I barely slept a wink. It was showing the most awful images, maybe a muggle documentary, about a group of men who tried to take over a building, then one man stopped them. There were explosions, a hellycopper and muggle security all around."

Hermione thought about this, trying to put Professor McGonagall's words to any documentary she could think of, buildings and explosions, helly… helicopter. "Professor, was the man wearing a white vest by any chance?" She hazarded a guess, thinking of one of her father's favourite movies, after a Star Wars trilogy of course.

"He was, now that you mention it, and using those dreadful muggle weapons that crack and bang all the time." Professor McGonagall explained, thankful that the sounds had stopped and peace and quiet reigned again.

"Guns, they're called guns professor," Hermione explained with a smile. "It wasn't a documentary; it was a movie… muggle entertainment. It's a story called Die Hard professor."

"Ahh, I see," Professor McGonagall nodded though she didn't quite follow exactly what was being said, only that it was fiction of some sort and the muggles watched it for entertainment. "Well, perhaps you'll show me how to turn it off later so that I can get some sleep in future."

"I'll unplug it later professor," Hermione nodded before she paused. "Did you try and sleep down here last night professor?"

"Yes, the couch seemed perfectly comfortable to me, until I laid on this black box the caused the noises and pictures to start." Professor McGonagall explained. "You fell asleep at the table while we were going through your parents papers, I thought it best to let you sleep and put you in your room."

"That's why I couldn't remember getting in to bed then," Hermione muttered as she stretched and yawned again, barely catching herself in time to cover her mouth with her hand as she yawned. "You should have slept in my parent's room; you can use that tonight if you like."

"It didn't seem right Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said with a soft smile. "They only left this world a few days ago, I didn't want to disturb your memory of them by taking their bed."

"Please professor, call me Hermione," She smiled up. "And would you like some breakfast, it's not quite up to the elves standard at Hogwarts, but I should be able to rustle up some muggle cereal or toast."

"Please then, call me Minerva. Just while we are here though." Minerva said with a smile as she followed Hermione through into the kitchen. "I think we can do better than some toast or cereal though."

"Profess… I mean Minerva?" Hermione caught herself in time as she turned around to see what she meant. She turned around just in time to see Minerva brandishing her want and pointing it at the worktops, a few swish and flicks later the various kitchen implements started moving around of their own accord, waiting for instructions.

"What would you prefer, Professor Dumbledore always started the day with pancakes I believe." Minerva said with a smile as she waited for Hermione to decide.

"Just toast," Hermione said with a small smile, thinking back to what Harry and Ron might be doing back at Hogwarts, they were probably at the Great Hall right now having breakfast as they always did, or always used to do, together. "I'm not really hungry right now."

"You have to eat child," Minerva said sympathetically, flicking her wand again and causing the kitchen implements to go back to their original places. "You must keep up your strength, you're a growing girl. I know it's a tough time right now, but it will get better."

"Promise?" Hermione looked up at her, the tears already growing in her eyes before she quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of her fuzzy jumper. "I just miss them so much Professor."

"I know," Minerva smiled softly at her, not bothering to correct her on the name, she knew it would be a time before Hermione got used to calling her anything but Professor. "Perhaps we should focus on the day ahead, maybe you'll feel like eating something later on."

"Maybe," Hermione grudgingly agreed as she fetched a glass from the cupboard and filled it with cool water, not bothering to look for orange juice or anything else.

"Come then," Minerva smiled as she led Hermione back into the living room. "Maybe we can find an address or… what do muggles call it now, fellytone for your uncle?"

"Telephone," Hermione smiled, though the glint in Minerva's eye told her that she knew exactly what the real term was and was just using it at an excuse to keep her mind busy. "Maybe, mum should have some details around for Uncle Rupert somewhere; it might be in her deed box."

"A fine place to start then," Minerva smiled. "Why don't you fetch this deed box of your mothers, and we can start looking for this elusive uncle of yours."

"Ok," Hermione nodded with a small smile, a glimmer of hope at finding her uncle early and having someone from her family to talk to urged her onwards as she moved to the stairs to head up to her parents' room to fetch the blue deed box that her mum always kept under the bed.

* * *

Giles however was having no trouble waking up, having slept in his father's old bedroom rather than face the horrors of memories from his misspent youth. The sun was coming through the large windows lighting up the room easily with the fresh daylight, he smiled as he got dressed, having had a fresh shower and a good night's sleep, he felt much more alive than when he had arrived after sleeping on the plane for the journey over to England.

Wandering over to the window he glanced outside, feeling a strange sense of home as he looked out over the grounds, his memory firing into to action and giving him memories of himself and Sarah playing on the grass outside. Duelling with sticks or riding the horses around the ground, their mother chasing after them and shouting at them when they got dirty, their father always shouting at them for not studying enough, not putting enough effort into his cantrips or not wanting to follow the family tradition for Sarah.

He had to blink a few times to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him as he looked out the window to see two teenage girls leading two rather large horses around, fourteen maybe fifteen hands each, a further glance told him that he could see Marcus sat outside his bungalow, a wheelbarrow full of boxes next to him as he idly relaxed and smoked a cigarette in the fresh morning air.

His curiosity piqued Giles moved to go downstairs, moving out of his father's room quickly then easily finding his way through the corridors to the main stairwell downstairs to the lobby. He pulled on his green rainmac from last night that he'd worn to go out for a walk with Marcus around the grounds, just to re-familiarise himself with his old home.

Dressed casually in jeans and a blue jumper he helped himself to a bottle of water from the fridge, pocketing one for Marcus before walking out of the back door and out onto the grounds paddock, the wet grass feeling strange under his feet where he was just wearing socks. It didn't particularly matter to him, just an amusing sensation as he walked.

He nodded at Marcus as he walked over, who nodded back to him with a smile. "Rupert, sleep well?"

"Like a log, thank you," Giles smiled as he handed over the bottle of water before unscrewing the bottle of water he'd fetched for himself and taking a mouthful.

"Ceri, Katrina!" Marcus shouted before putting his fingers in his mouth and letting out a pitched whistle to get their attention, once they both turned to him he waved them over.

"Not yours I trust?" Giles asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sadly not," Marcus laughed as the two young girls rode the respective horses over. "Ceri, Katrina, this is Doctor Giles, the owner of the house and horses you've both been taking care of."

"Oh, thank you," Ceri was the first one to speak, her mousey blonde hair shining in the sunlight.

"Yeah, thanks, you don't want us to leave right, 'cause Claudia likes her morning run through the grounds. She's not as young as Christian though, so she has to take it slow." Katrina explained in a rush of babble as she took off her helmet to show short brunette hair.

"No no, nothing of the sort," Giles smiled as they both as he walked over and patted Christina on the mussel several times, stroking the soft hair between his fingers. "Have you two been looking after the horses long?"

"About two years now," Ceri explained, taking her helmet of as well. "Since Mark threw his back out a few years ago, we come up every couple of days, take care of them, ride them around, make sure they're ok."

"Indeed," Giles smiled, raising his eyebrow at Marcus who just shrugged in response.

"It's nice of you to let us ride them Mister Giles, the liveries around here just cost so much, and it's hard to find any of them looking for work, especially for girls like us." Katrina explained as she stroked Claudia's crest and muzzle lovingly.

"Well, I see you both know what you are doing with them," Giles smiled as he continued to pet Christina's face, causing her to whinny as she rubbed into his palm. "I would love for you both to continue looking after them, though I may add to the stables as time goes on, I have a young girl who will be moving in as well, she might be interested in her own horse to keep here as well."

"Oh we can help with them as well Mister Giles, we don't mind." Ceri beamed down from where she was on top of Christian.

"Yeah, we're here every other day anyway, either riding them or cleaning out the stables, we take care of all the tools as well, just ask Mark." Katrina explained with a big smile.

"True," Marcus smiled with a shrug as he ground the cigarette out on the wall before throwing it in a wooden bucket by the side of the bungalow that obviously been designated the ash tray for many years. "The girls have been a godsend, they like to ride, and they help out where they can."

"Well then, as long as it doesn't interfere with your school work," Giles smiled at the two, causing them both to light up with big smiles. "I see no reason why you can't enjoy the horses while you are here, feel free to take them on a run around the grounds and help yourself to the kitchen."

"Oh they already do that," Marcus laughed. "I keep the kitchen well stocked with fruit and snacks for them, along with drinks if they get thirsty." He explained, jabbing his thumb backwards to the bungalow behind him where the lights were on illuminating a modern kitchen behind the windows.

"Good," Giles smiled, giving Christian one last pat on the head before the girls rode the horses off out towards the open paddock and towards the soft forest area to the south of the grounds.

"They're good kids Rupert," Marcus explained. "They live down in town, Ceri's dad used to work at the local grocer 'till it shut down, think he works down in the city somewhere now though. Time's just been rough for them, so they come up here and help out, just cleaning up after the horses, nothing else. Then they get to ride them whenever they want, seemed like a fair deal to me, giving the kids a few hours of happiness every few days."

"I quite agree," Giles smiled as he watched the girls ride the horses around the open grassland, their obviously happy faces still smiling as Ceri took Christian off into a canter towards the forest land. "May I?" He asked, leaning down to pick up Marcus' pack of Regal cigarettes from the wall.

"Help yourself," Marcus nodded.

"I am, however, disappointed you didn't tell me about your back injury," Giles explained with a dour look as he lit the cigarette and took a breath of smoke, coughing slightly as it had been a long time since he last smoked. It was bad habit from his youth that he had picked up, one that had re-emerged since last year's 'cursed candy' incident sadly, but one he had kept private from the children back in Sunnydale.

"Minor accident," Marcus shrugged as he leaned back against the wall. "Was just replacing some of the roofing after a storm, you know how it gets on these old bungalows. I slipped, fell, caught my back on the guttering. Managed to keep myself from falling off though."

"Just as well," Giles mused. "If something like that happens again, I trust you will ask for help this time around."

"Won't happen again," Marcus laughed. "I ain't getting up there again for no one, and if yours needs doing…" He trailed off, pointing to the roof of the larger house that was three stories up and a far steeper roof that his own bungalow. "You're on your own mate." He finished with a laugh.

"Quite," Giles laughed, not relishing the idea of getting up on that roof for any reason.

"Anyway, got all of Sarah's old stuff," Marcus explained with a smile, tapping the boxes in the wheelbarrow next to him. "That's the lot, photos, clothes, some old records, school reports; everything your dad wanted to burn or get rid of."

"Thank you," Giles smiled over as he opened the corner of one box gently to take a look inside, a soft pink rabbit cuddly toy with a heart on its chest was in the corner of the box and popped out as soon as he'd pulled the cardboard back.

"I did warn you," Marcus laughed as Giles picked out the pink rabbit and examined it, his eyes going misty at the old memories brought up by the cuddly toy. "I haven't been through those things since I re-boxed them a few years ago, can't even remember what's in what box to be honest."

"I'm sure it's all there," Giles nodded thankfully, he knew Marcus was careful with things like this, and if the pristine nature of the house was any indication, the old family photos in here should be as good as new.

"Oh, I've been meaning to go through the garage as well," Marcus explained apologetically. "Haven't had the chance yet though, there's some old junk in there, some parts my dad was tinkering with, fixing up the old cars, you know how he was."

"I remember," Giles chuckled, thinking back to his childhood when Stephen was forever fixing up his dad's cars after he'd put the wrong petrol in the tank or had caught the bumper on something or other.

"I think his old MG's still there, the silver one, that's got its MOT and insured still, couldn't tell you about the rest though." Marcus explained as he stood up and moved to the wheelbarrow. "You want these inside right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, the main study will do fine, thank you." Giles smiled as Marcus pocketed his packet of cigarettes before wheeling the boxes up towards the house across the green.

"Do you ride Hermione?" He asked himself in the quiet, unaware that Marcus had left his clutching the pink fluffy toy as the girls rode past again, both of them waving as they went. "Are you as carefree as they are, or as troubled as Buffy is?" He mused to himself before taking one last drag of the cigarette and throwing it in the wooden bucket where it continued to smoulder.

He had a plan for today however, one that Marcus had just helped put into action. So he left the grounds, walking towards the house away from that sounds of happy girls as they rode around on the horses, carefree and without a worry in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

"Here's one," Hermione said as she pulled out another bit of paper. "Mum's college qualifications, Sarah Giles."

"Indeed," Minerva smiled, they had quite the collection of papers now confirming Hermione's mother was born Sarah Giles until she married Anthony Granger, though sadly nothing about her family, her brother or father, no recent addresses telephone numbers or anything.

"Do you think my Grandpa's still alive, or my Grandma, on mum's side that is," Hermione asked thoughtfully, still flicking through the large pile of paperwork they'd retrieved from her mum's deed boxes. Unlike what she'd remembered, instead of just the one deed box, there were three blue ones under the bed, all filled to the brim with paperwork about their past, birth certificates, graduation pictures, insurance details for the dental practice, anything and everything seemed to be there in meticulous order as well.

"I see no reason to say either way," Minerva commented. "I have found no death certificate or funeral papers for your grandfather or grandmother Giles, so I assume they could be."

"They'd be nice," Hermione said with a soft smile, it had been a long time since she'd had grandparents to talk to, she could vaguely remember Grandpa Granger telling her stories about the war, about what life was like back then and about how he met grandma. But they were very old memories, fading at best, the sort of half memories where you can't tell if they're real or imagined.

"I'm finding this most frustrating," Minerva confessed as she put down the last piece of paper she had been reading. "I find it hard to believe that your mother has absolutely no record or papers regarding your Uncle Rupert or her parents."

"We have this," Hermione said with a small smile, holding her mother's birth certificate. "Sarah Giles, born February twentieth nineteen sixty, father Stewart Giles and mother Lorna Giles."

"So we do have a name then," Minerva smiled at that. "Progress at last."

"Not much though," Hermione grimaced as she looked at the pile of papers they had yet to sort through. After this they still had to find a way to actually contact her Uncle Rupert, as they had no way of knowing if he knew where they lived or how to get in contact with her. Then there were funeral arrangements to be made and the people that worked at the practice to notify. Fortunately the police had already explained the situation to the people that worked at the dental surgery owned by her mum and dad, they could attest to that due to several condolences cards that had been waiting for them through the letterbox when they'd arrived yesterday.

"Allow me," Minerva smiled, flicking her wand at the remaining paperwork and concentrating on the names given to her by Hermione, both Rupert and Stewart Giles.

Hermione just sat back as the paperwork streamed out of the remaining deed boxes, sorting through itself in mid-air until most of the paperwork returned to the blue boxes it had come from, leaving one small pile of papers which floated down to settle in the middle of the table.

"There, much more agreeable I think you'll find," Minerva said as she laid her wand on the table and waited for Hermione to start looking at the papers that had been magically sorted for her.

"Sorry, thank you," Hermione smiled over. "I'm just not used to that, seeing that much magic without an incantation."

"It will be taught in your sixth year," Minerva smiled at Hermione's thoughtful expression. "If you'd like, I can give you some pointers before I return to Hogwarts, give you something to practice on while you work on the rest of your classes."

"I'd like that," Hermione smiled in thanks across the table before reaching for the first in the pile of papers that had been sorted for her, finding it was actually three pieces of paper stapled together. "It's a letter to mum, it's from Uncle Rupert." She exclaimed before she avidly started reading the letter, soon getting lost in the words as her Uncle Rupert finally had a voice in her mind.

* * *

"You ok?" Marcus asked as Giles walked in the main study area, depositing the pink rabbit on one of the smaller book cases as he walked.

"Hmm, perfectly," Giles smiled over as he moved to head upstairs but paused halfway up. "Could you put those in Sarah's old room, get it ready."

"You think she'll like it?" Marcus asked with a smile, thinking about all the things Sarah had when she was a teenager that the boxes held.

"I hope so," Giles nodded. "If not, we can redecorate once she's settled. I don't suppose she'll be here much anyway, the school she attends is in Scotland somewhere, so it's doubtful she will be here during term."

"Best make it presentable then," Marcus said in agreement as he picked up one of the boxes and moved to follow Giles up the main stairs. "I've locked up the summoning room; we can strip it bare later on, the keys down in the bungalow in the desk drawer."

"Thank you," Giles smiled as he jogged up the stairs slowly. "When I get back, we'll go through the main library, don't think there's much there to remove, maybe the odd text on demonology, though most of the more archaic texts are in Latin, so I'd believe they will be safe for the time being."

"Yeah, what are the chances of little Hermione knowing Latin, let alone being able to read it?" Marcus laughed as he moved up the stairs and headed along a different corridor to Giles towards Sarah's old room.

"Indeed," Giles' voice echoed back as he walked into the father's old room, his room now, and unzipped his suitcase, moving some shirts aside to find the flexible leather binder he was looking for.

"Where you off to then?" Marcus asked, standing in the doorway after dropping the box off in Sarah's room.

"It occurred to me that I have Sarah's old address," Giles explained as he flicked through the contents of the leather binder until he found the old letter he was looking for. "The last letter she sent, just after Hermione's ninth birthday. I never did write back though."

"Got the address?" Marcus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"One fourteen Sheridan close, Dover Road, Welling," Giles read off the return address from the top of the letter, easily reading Sarah's flowing script.

"You kept her letters, all this time?" Marcus asked as Giles folded up the letter and pushed it into his jeans pocket.

"I kept meaning to write back," Giles admitted sadly. "But with the Council and… you know how it is."

"Yeah, right," Marcus nodded in agreement. "Surprised they let you come home, what you doing for them anyway, some field research stuff or something."

"Something like that," Giles admitted with a wry smile. "Though I'm not actually working for the Council anymore, thanks be for small mercies."

"That's a turn up," Marcus laughed as he moved out of the doorway to walk back downstairs to collect more of the boxes. "What happen then, you finally had enough of Quentin's bull?"

"Something along those lines," Giles chuckled to himself. "Are the keys in the garage?" He asked, checking he had his house keys still in his coat pocket.

"Hung up on the right hand side by the door, the MG's number three, I think," Marcus explained with a grimace. "Like I said, been meaning to get in there, just haven't had the chance."

"It's fine, really," Giles nodded. "It shouldn't take long, Welling's only down in Kent right, along the A2?"

"Follow the signs for Dover then get off at Dartford," Marcus called as he started his way up the stairs with another set of boxes.

"Thanks, see you soon," Giles called back as he made his way through the main library downstairs, noting a few of the books on the shelves that he would definitely remove when he returned, and through into the hallway towards the garage.

* * *

"He got his doctorates in ancient mythology and folklore from some university I've never even heard of," Hermione explained as she read through the fourth letter again, this one being one of the earliest she'd found after putting the letters in date order to read easier.

"Well, I believe we have located which side of the family you take after," Minerva chuckled slightly as Hermione continued on reading.

"He says he's gone back to working with his dad, Grandpa Giles, but he knows mum won't approve," Hermione read aloud. "It sounds like mum and Grandpa had a falling out, a long time ago by the sounds of this."

"Family feuds sadly do last several decades, centuries in the wizarding community as I am sure you are well aware." Minerva explained. "Is there an address or any other way to contact Rupert?"

"A different one on each letter," Hermione said, picking up the first letter. "Some sort of academy in London, New York, Cleveland, London again but a different address." She shrugged. "The last one came from somewhere near Los Angeles," She said, fishing through the papers for the letter in question. "Sunnydale."

"Sunnydale you say," Minerva looked up, startled.

"You know of it?" Hermione asked, putting down the letters to let Professor McGonagall talk.

"I should," Minerva explained with a wry smile. "Sunnydale is the location of the most active gateway on Earth, much like in London, under the Ministry, there is a gateway much like it. Unlike the one in Sunnydale however, ancient wizards found a way to harness and bind it to a doorway, a veil of sorts to another place."

"And Sunnydale has one of these?" Hermione asked, now fully interested in learning more about this doorway that was under the Ministry that she'd never heard of before.

"A wild one yes," Minerva nodded in ascent. "There are several around the world, most countries magical governments are built over them, to contain them and harness their energy. Sunnydale is one that has been too dangerous for the American Wizarding Association to tame."

"I wonder what Uncle Rupert was doing there," Hermione mused, her imagination going into overdrive again, imagining her Uncle Rupert now as some sort of Indiana Jones type figure, on the hunt for mystical animals and folklore around the world.

"A coincidence surely," Minerva smiled reassuringly. "With your uncle's specialisation, he was probably attracted to the area from the stories. Wild doorways such as the one in Sunnydale often draw out the nastiest of dark creatures, with such an abundance of dark magic in one place, it's soon noticed by muggles and stories start to spread, then become folklore, then myth…"

"Which is what drew Uncle Rupert to them," Hermione finished off, drawing her own conclusion. "He's probably one of those muggle historians that collects old folk tales and legends for museums, maybe they send him off around the world to research these places for them."

"Perhaps," Minerva nodded; it was a valid hypothesis, and one that could explain Rupert Giles' appearance in several of the cities where known doorways were documented. "We should continue through the papers, there may be a way to contact him in one of the pieces we have yet to look at."

"Of course, sorry, I got caught up in just reading Uncle Rupert's letters to mum; it sounds like they were really close at one time." Hermione said with a smile as she put the letter down in the pile she'd read, casting one last glance at it before picking up the next set of papers and starting to read through it.

"Quite alright," Minerva smiled. "You have nothing to apologise for child, it's natural to be curious about your family, especially those members you have yet to meet."

"I can't wait," Hermione smiled up from the paper she was reading. "I bet he's short like mum was, and has the same black hair, dad had the brown hair in the family."

"I'm sure you will meet him soon," Minerva smiled over the table at her. "Now, should we continue or would you like something to eat first?"

"I think I could manage a little something," Hermione confessed with a small smile. "I could make sandwiches, there's bread and ham out there in the fridge I think."

"Then ham sandwiches sound delightful," Minerva nodded with a smile, happy that Hermione was actually going to eat something, even if it was only a little something like a sandwich. Meals would come in their own time; she knew how distressing it was to lose a loved one, losing almost your entire family in one day must be heart breaking for the young girl. She could see she bore it well though, watching her as she slowly moved through the kitchen, fixing the sandwiches the muggle way with a knife and slowly taking time to butter each slice of the bread.

She'd broken down once already, she just hoped that she was there for her when it happened again. She knew it would, sooner or later, no one can bottle up that amount of grief forever, she knew that one from experience.

* * *

Giles frowned to himself as he negotiated the streets out of London, at first heading north away from the city centre so he could get on the main roads and avoid the congestion of the main city, it seemed traffic here had actually gotten worse since he was last here, and he could swear that some of the people on the roads must have taken driving lessons from Buffy.

It might have been the unfamiliar car that he was driving, but he was finding himself actually anxious as he headed onto the main motorway and quickly slipped into the middle lane. He couldn't help but wonder now what his little niece was like, was she like the two girls back at the house or more like Buffy and Willow from Sunnydale, god forbid she had a sense of humour anything like Xander or have Buffy's knack of getting into trouble.

Flicking the radio on he quickly tuned it through to 'classic gold' and settled in for the journey as the sounds of 'The Who' filled the car, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to the tune he let himself concentrate on the drive while his imagination filled with ideas of little Hermione studying for her GCSE topics. Perhaps taking subjects like English and History, or taking after her father more and pursuing the sciences or accounting.

* * *

"Is everything alright Hermione?" Professor McGonagall asked as she walked up the stairs to find Hermione simply sat on her parent's bed in silence, not reading or anything, just simply sitting there and thinking. Crookshanks was curled up next to her in the quiet and 'chirruped' slightly when she entered the room.

"Fine Profe… I mean Minerva," Hermione nodded, wiping away a few stray tears from her eyes. "I guess I'm just cried out, I keep expecting to just burst out crying but it never comes."

"I'm sure the tears will be there when you need them child," Minerva smiled gently at her. "There are some things I wish to take care of; I trust you will be safe until I return."

Hermione nodded with a small smile before replying. "I'll be fine."

"Good, I shan't be long, just some errands for Professor Dumbledore at the Ministry while I am here, I won't be gone more than an hour or so." Minerva explained. "Do try and keep your mind busy, I have left some books downstairs for you to read should you wish."

"Thanks Professor," Hermione smiled. "I think I'm just going to try and rest for a bit though."

"A wise decision my child," Minerva smiled back softly. "I shall return soon." She nodded before there was a small crack and a pop in the room as she apparated out of the bedroom towards the Ministry.

Hermione just sat there in the silence for a bit, idly stroking Crookshanks as she looked around the empty room. Photos of her parents on the bedside table and her mum's jewellery box were still neatly arranged in their proper place; she picked up the photo of her mum and dad, the thin silver frame cold in her hands as she ran her fingers down her father's face.

"I miss you both so much," She whispered to the photo before laying it down next to her on the bed and rolling to the side to face it, resting just for a minute on the soft pillows.


	5. Chapter 5

Giles POV

* * *

Giles checked the address one last time as he drove up the street, Dover Road hadn't been hard to find as it practically ran through the heart of Welling, so he'd just driven along it and kept his eye open for Sheridan Close. The letter was crumpled in his hand now, holding it in his left hand against the steering wheel as he drove along, though finally he found the road he was looking for and turned off into the small close.

The houses here were pretty nice, modern style dark brickwork with bright white window frames and ledges, various large bushes and shrubs, all neatly trimmed, seemed to be the pattern of the front gardens in the street.

He spared a last glance at the letter to check the address before throwing it on the passenger seat. "One fourteen," He muttered to himself as he drove along, flicking his eyes from the road in front of him to the left hand side of the road where the even numbered houses were ticking past. "Eighty six," He read off, driver a few more yards down the road before pulling up to park alongside the curb, making sure he wasn't blocking anyone's driveway or access path.

Looking up ahead he could see number one fourteen, only a dozen or so yards in front of him. While it was daylight outside it was overcast with the clouds threatening rain later on, so it was easy to make out the lights in the front room and upstairs bedroom were turned on.

"You'd think you were some nervous school boy on a date," Giles chuckled to himself before steeling himself and stepping out of the car, closing and locking the door behind him. While he was perfectly sure this was a nice neighbourhood, Sarah wouldn't have lived here otherwise, the MG was a classic car, and he didn't fancy having to explain to Marcus it was stolen while he was chatting with his niece.

He walked over to the house he knew Sarah used to live it, of course there was no telling if she lived there before she died, for all he knew she could have moved away somewhere closer to Hermione's school and this was all a wild goose chance of his own making.

Walking up the path he smiled at the soft pink roses in the front garden, they were planted all the way up the side of the path and made a pleasant scent in the air as he stepped up to the front door, taking a single deep breath before rapping on the wood with his knuckles.

He waited for a moment in the quiet, just looking around at the garden beside him and the next door neighbour's house; they all looked pretty much the same on this street. He turned around to glance back at the car when he heard the click of a lock from the door as it opened, causing him to turn back to greet the person inside.

"Hello?" A young girl answered, about thirteen or fourteen by the looks of things. Giles was momentarily taken aback by how much she looked like Sarah when she was growing up, immediately his throat went dry and he tried to figure out what to say.

"Ah, yes, hello, Miss Granger?" He asked politely, he was almost positive this was Hermione but it didn't hurt to double check things before announcing to a perfect stranger that he was her long lost uncle.

"I'm sorry… my mum… she died, last week…" The girl managed to say, her voice stronger than he would have given her credit for under the circumstances. "Did… did you know her?"

"Yes," Giles nodded slowly. "You see I'm…"

"Were you one of her patients, at the surgery?" She asked, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

"No, I haven't spoken to Sarah in a long time," Giles smiled softly at her. "I'm her brother, and if you're Hermione, then I'm Rupert Giles." He smiled as she opened her mouth and closed it several times, obviously not knowing what to say to this.

"You… you're my Uncle Rupert?" She asked, looking the older man up and down. He obviously wasn't what she expected, and her gaze made him wish he'd dressed up smarter than a pair of jeans and a blue sweater over a crumpled shirt.

"I'm afraid so," Giles chuckled to himself, trying to lighten the mood. He reached into his back pocket and brought out his wallet, pausing when Hermione reached into her pocket at the same time and he thought he caught sight of what looked to be a pencil of some sort sticking out of the corner. "Here," He offered, unfolding the wallet and bringing out the picture he'd kept of her winning the science award. Handing it over he smiled reassuringly as she took it gently with an outstretched hand, she looked almost afraid for some reason.

"This… this is me," She whispered as she looked at the photo carefully.

"Sarah, your mum, we used to write letters to each other quite regularly," Giles smiled, folding the wallet back up and replacing it in his pocket, letting her hold on to the photo for the time being. "I'm afraid we lost touch a number of years back though after I got caught up in some work."

"Mum… she kept yours," Hermione smiled, looking down at the photo, how she and her parents looked so happy and content, a proper family.

"And I kept all of hers," Giles smiled over. "She was quite the writer you know, could have done it for a living if she hadn't chosen to become a dentist." He chuckled to himself. "She was always writing plays, short stories and the like when we were younger, used to drive our parents crazy."

"She did," Hermione said in a small voice, still staring at the photo. "She started writing children's stories; she got published in a magazine a couple of years ago." Hermione explained. "She kept a copy in the surgery waiting room for the children to read."

"I'm happy for her," Giles smiled down as Hermione handed him the photo back. "She always said to follow your own dreams and make things happen, I never dreamt she'd followed all of her dreams."

"She did," Hermione smiled back, "Would you like to come in?"

Giles fought the urge to wince at the open invitation but nodded his head anyway, stepping forward when Hermione stepped out of the way to allow him entrance. "I'm so sorry to hear about Sarah and your dad." He said, wanting to express his condolences and talk to the young girl, his niece, some more about her mum. It had been so long since he actually talked about Sarah, it was like a floodgate opening, now she was all he wanted to talk about, and learn about Hermione at the same time.

"Thank you," Hermione nodded as she closed the door behind him. "Would you like a drink, I think mum kept some coffee around for dad somewhere, though I've never actually made a cup. Or tea, I can do tea."

"Tea would be fine, thank you," Giles smiled at her, noticing the pile of shoes by the doorway alcove and the clean beige carpet throughout the house. He was immediately reminded of the times he and Sarah had been playing outside when it rained, then they'd run back into the kitchen and through into the study, leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind them.

Taking off his shoes he placed them off to one side neatly, looking around the living room as he walked into it. It was perfectly as he'd imagined Sarah's house to be, neat and meticulous, almost spartan and clinical, with a few family photos on the mantel piece above the fire and others in neat frames hung on the wall.

"It's very nice here," He said, his voice carrying through as he noticed the television in the corner of the room, covered in throw pillows and rugs, he had to raise an eyebrow at this one as he moved through the living room into the kitchen where Hermione had gone.

* * *

Hermione's POV

* * *

Hermione had barely been resting her eyes for ten minutes when a knock at the door brought her back to reality quickly. Her brain automatically thought it would be Professor McGonagall coming back from the Ministry, but then she realised she would have just apparated inside the house like she'd done when she left.

Climbing out of the bed she moved across to the window, stepping up onto her tiptoes to get a better angle out of them to see who was at the door. Her parents' bedroom was pretty much above the front door, so from here she could easily make out a man stood at the front door, obviously a muggle from the way he was dressed, with greying hair and glasses. She couldn't make out his face from here but he was wearing a casual blue sweater and appeared to be nervously looking around for something.

Quickly thinking that he must have been a friend of her mum or dads she moved out of the bedroom to go downstairs and answer the door. Pausing at the bottom of the door in a moment's hesitation as she remembered the newspaper she'd seen of the escape of Sirius Black, while this man didn't appear to look anything like Sirius had done in the picture of him, there was no harm in being careful.

Checking her wand was in her pocket and easily accessible, she flicked open the catch on the door and opened it.

The man appeared to be a bit older then her mum was, with soft wrinkles around his face and glasses that gave him a kind but worn look. "Hello?" She asked, wondering if he knew her parents at all, was he here to see them, did he knew they died?

"Ah, yes, hello, Miss Granger?" The man said, sounding a bit unsure about himself as he looked down at her. He seemed even more nervous than she was, and she was afraid of a wizard killer on the loose, so that was saying something. From the look in his eyes as he looked at her, he'd obviously known her mum or dad somehow, he was asking for her mum so he didn't know.

"I'm sorry… my mum… she died, last week…" Hermione answered, forcing herself to stay strong as she said the words for the first time to a stranger. She nodded as he smiled softly at her, his eyes showing how sorry he was to hear that. "Did… did you know her?" She asked, wondering who this man was now.

"Yes, you see I'm…" The man started to answer when she had a flash of memory, her mum showing her a photo of someone that looked like the man that was stood at the doorway. She'd shown her photos of a few of her friends before, mostly people who came into the dental surgery or worked with her.

"Were you one of her patients, at the surgery?" She asked with a small smile; hoping that the man had just come to talk to her about her mum and dad, maybe tell her how sorry he was before leaving her alone so she could go back to resting. "No, I haven't spoken to Sarah in a long time," The man said, causing Hermione to look at him more closely, even now he seemed to be nervous, or worried about something. She was about to ask why he was here when he continued talking.

"I'm her brother, and if you're Hermione, then I'm Rupert Giles." The man finally said, causing Hermione to stare at him for a moment, not knowing what to say. He was completely different to anything she had imagined, while mum was short, he was quite tall, taller than her dad even. His hair was soft grey but looked like it used to be a dark brown, and he was wearing glasses, her mum didn't wear glasses.

She tried several times to get the words out but kept stopping, suddenly having a dry throat at the unexpected meeting. "You… you're my Uncle Rupert?" She finally asked, as she looked over him. She'd expected someone in a suit or something, maybe robes, she didn't think muggle professors wore robes but that hadn't helped how she'd pictured him in her fantasies.

"I'm afraid so," The man laughed, reaching around behind his back, Hermione was instantly on guard, maybe her uncle was working for Voldemort, or Sirius Black. Maybe he had killed her parents and was now going to kill her to get to Harry. Her hand was almost at her pocket before she realised what she was doing, about to bring her wand out to defend himself when she realised he was holding out a muggle wallet that he'd brought out from his pocket, along with a faded photo that looked like it had been folded and unfolded a dozen times or more.

"Here," The man said, handing over the picture.

She paused for a moment before gingerly taking the offered photo, not wanting to let down her guard just yet in case this was just a trick to get to Harry. "This… this is me," She said after looking at the photo for a few minutes, it was a photo that had been taken in her middle year at junior school. They'd had a science fair and she'd done experiments to show how you could use bicarbonate of soda and vinegar to launch a rocket over thirty feet into the air.

"Sarah, your mum, we used to write letters to each other quite regularly," The man explained, though Hermione didn't look back up at him, she was too busy looking at the photo she'd never seen before. There were similar ones of course; one of her and her mum, her dad had taken that one while they were testing the first rockets. Both of them had ended up drenched in vinegar from that experiment, her hair as smelled of it for days afterwards. "I'm afraid we lost touch a number of years back though after I got caught up in some work."

"Mum… she kept yours," Hermione said in a small voice as she looked at how happy her mum and dad looked in the photo, her dad even had the glint in his eye that mum always talked about.

"And I kept all of hers, she was quite the writer you know, could have done it for a living if she hadn't chosen to become a dentist." The man said with a laugh as if remembering an old story or memory. "She was always writing plays, short stories and the like when we were younger, used to drive our parents crazy."

"She did," Hermione said as she looked up at the man with a small smile. "She started writing children's stories; she got published in a magazine a couple of years ago." Hermione explained as she remembered reading the stories with her mum before she sent them off to the editor. "She kept a copy in the surgery waiting room for the children to read."

"I'm happy for her," The man said, and Hermione could see how proud he was of her in his eyes. It was tinged with sadness of course, but she could see the man definitely cared about her mum. "She always said to follow your own dreams and make things happen, I never dreamt she'd followed all of her dreams."

"She did," Hermione smiled with a nod, remembering her mum giving her the same advice when she went off for her first year at Hogwarts. She said to always follow her dreams, make up her own mind about things and not to care what other people said about her. She paused for a second, looking over at the man before making up her mind, the more she looked at the man the more she could see the resemblance between him and her mum, now that she wasn't focusing on the differences that is "Would you like to come in?"

"I'm so sorry to hear about Sarah and your dad." The man said as he stepped inside, she'd seen him pause and hesitate before doing so though; she couldn't help but wonder what had caused that, was he worried about her being alone in the house, or something else.

"Thank you," Hermione nodded as she closed the door, taking an extra look outside as she did it to make sure there was no one else out there watching her. She then turned back to the man, her uncle, her Uncle Rupert. She tried to remember everything he'd written in the letters to her mum but couldn't focus for some reason. Then she remembered Professor Dumbledore saying he had flown over from America, he still had an English accent though, but if he had been in America then he was probably used to what they drink over there.

She tried to think what she'd seen in movies and TV shows, thinking about what American's drank, the only things she could think of were orange juice for breakfast or coffee. "Would you like a drink, I think mum kept some coffee around for dad somewhere, though I've never actually made a cup. Or tea, I can do tea." She offered, frowning at herself as she babbled, quickly turning away from the man so he didn't see her blush as she rushed the words out.

"Tea would be fine, thank you," The man called through as she walked into the kitchen, she took a deep breath and let it out, relieved that she wouldn't have to embarrass herself by trying to brew a coffee in front of her new uncle without actually knowing how. She set about getting the tea bags out of the cupboard and cups ready, all the time thinking about what she actually had to say to the man. It had been so long since she'd actually had to talk to a muggle without letting her secret out, she found herself constantly second guessing everything she thought about saying in case he took it the wrong way.

"It's very nice here," The man called through as she turned the kettle on, waiting for it to boil, that at least gave her some time to think about what she was going to say. She turned around to go into the living room to say thank you for him coming over today but instead found him stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the wall as if it was the most comfortable position in the world.

* * *

Giles smiled at her as she turned around, she looked a bit shocked to see him there but quickly covered it up. "I said it's a nice house." He smiled softly as he looked at her. "Would you like a hand?"

"No, no, I can manage," Hermione nodded at him. She didn't want him to think she was just some kid who couldn't look after herself anyway. She smiled when she noticed he'd taken his shoes off though. "Dad always made us take our shoes off, he said they'd ruin the carpet."

"He's quite right," Giles chuckled briefly, that did sound like the Tony he'd met at the wedding so many years ago, wanting everything to be perfect and just right.

"Do you take sugar?" Hermione asked, turning back to the counter where the kettle had boiled.

"Just milk thank you," Giles replied. "I hear you go to a boarding school in Scotland, I tried to find the address so I could contact you there but the police man I spoke to didn't seem to have it."

"It's a small one, as soon as they heard what had happened they let me leave early," Hermione explained, glad her back was turned to the man when he'd mentioned the boarding school as he eyes went as wide as saucers.

"Most kind of them," Giles nodded as she turned around with two cups of tea and handed one to him. "Thank you." He smiled. "I can imagine you have lots of questions about me."

Hermione had to laugh at that, she hadn't even known the man existed up until two days ago, now he was here in her parent's kitchen sharing a cup of tea with her. "A few," Hermione admitted with a small nod.

"Then please feel free to ask whatever you wish," Giles nodded at her. Looking around the kitchen it was nice and modern; perfectly clean as if Sarah had just wiped everything down this morning, there weren't even any dirty cups or plates in the sink.

"I…" Hermione paused before taking a sip of the tea while trying to think of what to say. "I can't actually think of anything to ask."

"Quite alright," Giles chuckled as he took a mouthful of his own tea, smiling at the familiar taste of PG Tips teabags. "I'm sure the questions will come in time."

"You didn't have to come," Hermione said after a moment's silence. "I could have stayed at the school, and then stayed at friends over summer holidays."

"Nonsense," Giles said with a frown, putting the cup down on the sideboard as he walked further into the middle of the kitchen. "You're as much family to me as Sarah was," Giles smiled at her. "Besides, I would have come even if I hadn't known you needed my help, Sarah was my sister, my only family." He said the last sadly remembering that Hermione was the last of her family now, aside from him that was. "I'm here to help you Hermione, if you'll let me."

"But… you don't even know me," Hermione said, tears starting to form in her eyes as she looked at the kind face of her uncle who was now watching her reaction. "What… what if I'm trouble, or you don't want me around?" She asked as she choked back tears, remembering how bad Harry had told them his uncle and aunt were.

"I assure you that isn't the case," Giles said softly, reaching into his pocket again and pulling out a clean hanky which he handed over to her. "You could be a cat burglar for all I care," He chuckled as Hermione wiped her eyes on the offered hanky before staring at him with open eyes. "You were the most precious thing in the world to Sarah, and I would very much like to look after you for as long as you need. It's the least I can do after missing all those birthdays."

Hermione snorted at that, a bit of laughter forcing back the sobs in her throat.

"Now, why don't we go into the living room and you can start telling me about yourself," Giles offered with a smile, holding up his had to say 'keep it' when she offered to hand him back the hanky.

"There's not much to tell," Hermione said in a small voice as she picked up her tea again, putting the hanky in her back pocket for the minute so she could feel the warmth of the cup between her hands.

"I'm sure there is," Giles smiled as he led her back into the living room. "Do you enjoy school?"

Hermione just nodded, not wanting to say anything about her favourite subjects or favourite professors, there wasn't much about school she could actually talk about with a muggle she quickly realised.

"I see," Giles nodded back, realising that school was a topic for another time. Maybe she wasn't as studious as he'd imagined her to be, or was the boarding school for troubled girls or students with dyslexia or some other learning difficulty? It wouldn't matter to him either way, he just wished she could talk to him about it, but he knew that sort of conversation would come in time.

"Do you like it there?" Giles asked carefully, wanting to broach the topic of school carefully in case he upset her.

Hermione nodded back this time, a small ghost of a smile on her face as she sat down on the couch and watched as he took the arm chair in the corner of the room to give her some space. "I do, I love it." She said, the emotion in her voice thick as she thought about Hogwarts as a true home away from home.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," Giles smiled at her. "I assume you'll want to return after the Christmas period then?" He asked, pausing to wait for her reaction. "I presume you would like to help with the arrangements that is, so we can get as much sorted as possible before the January school term begins."

Hermione just blinked at the man, she hadn't expected him to talk about Hogwarts like he was just going to let her go back there without asking any questions. And what arrangements was he talking about, it took her a second to think before she realised he must be talking about her parents funeral arrangements. "I'd… I'd like that Mister Giles."

"Please, call me Rupert," Giles smiled over at her. "Or Giles if you must," He added, thinking about the family he'd left back in Sunnydale, Hermione was only a few years younger than they all were. "You are family after all."

"Rupert," Hermione nodded with a small smile.

"There, see, it wasn't so hard," Giles smiled as he took another mouthful of the tea, causing her to laugh at him. "Now, shall we discuss music, or perhaps film, your favourite movie?"

"Dad always liked Star Wars," Hermione said after a moment. "He kind of got me into them when I was young."

"Ahh yes," Giles nodded, inwardly cringing at the thought of introducing the young girl to Xander. "Music? A favourite band perhaps?"

"I don't really listen too much," Hermione answered honestly as she finished off her own cup of tea.

"Understandable," Giles nodded, thinking that perhaps they had their own school band or something; he was interrupted from asking another question by the large ginger cat that jumped up on his lap, causing him to spill the last of his cup of tea down his sweater in the process.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up ready for her familiar to take a swipe at Rupert.

"Interesting name," Giles smiled down, frowning at the bit of tea he'd spilt on his top but softening as the cat curled up in his lap. "Family pet I assume."

"He's mine," Hermione said after a moment, amazed that Crookshanks actually seemed content and settled in Rupert's lap. She never seen the half kneasle take to anyone before, he was always hissing and swiping at people with his claws, but for once he seemed quite content in Rupert's lap, even purring as he started to stroke him.

"What a cute cat," Giles said as he started to stroke the ginger ball of fur that had seemed to claim his lap as its own, letting the cat sniff his hand at first to get used to his scent. Inwardly he was cringing at the face of the poor animal, it looked like it had been hit in the face with a frying pan at birth, and it's tail reminded him of a toilet brush with the way the end fuzzed out wildly.

Hermione just stared in amazement, watching in disbelief as Crookshanks settled down in Rupert's lap and started to purr as he stroked him. "I'm sorry," She said as she noticed him staring at her. "He's just never taken to anyone else that quickly, Ron says he's a monster."

"Ron, is this a friend of yours?" Giles asked, latching on to this piece of information and ignoring the part about the cat. Animals had always gotten on with him, ever since his father had sent him away to the Devon Coven to learn Wiccan magick. That's where he'd learnt to horse ride as well, having found quite an affinity for nature in the two years he was there.

"A school friend," Hermione answered quickly. "Let me get you some tissue or something for that." She said before hurrying into the kitchen before she said anything else about school.

"Not to worry, it's quite…" Giles trailed off as Hermione moved past the armchair where he was sat into the kitchen, almost running as she went. Shaking his head in amusement he went back to petting the cat on his lap, he truly was an ugly creature, it had a strangely speckled ginger pattern on its fur and almost a mane around its neck that was puffed out like a lions would be.

He was quite happy stroking the strange animal and listening to it purr while waiting for Hermione to return when a loud 'crack' echoed through the room, startling him into dropping the empty up of tea on the floor as an older woman seeming appeared out of nowhere with a small flash of light around her as space itself seemed to warp around her for a second before she appeared.

"Good lord!" Giles exclaimed, standing up sharply and displacing Crookshanks from his lap where he fell to the floor with a hiss, however he wasn't too bothered about that as the woman who had appeared was now pointing what appeared to be a wand of some sort at him in a threatening manner.

"Who are you and what have you done with Miss Granger?" The woman shouted as she stepped forwards, pressing the wand into Giles' chest as she did.

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione shouted as she ran into the living room, the sound of the apparition having alerted her immediately to her return but she'd hoped that the professor would have apparated back upstairs instead of directly into their living room in front of Uncle Rupert. "No, wait, stop, please!" She shouted as she ran in the room, moving to place herself between Professor McGonagall and Rupert.

"What in God's name is going on?" Giles asked out, careful to keep a vaguely level tone of voice with the wand still poking into his chest.

"Professor, this is my Uncle, Rupert Giles. He came over early!" Hermione explained in a babble as she tried to convince Professor McGonagall that there wasn't any danger here.

"Professor?" Giles asked as he flicked his eyes away from the wand towards Hermione, who was looking nervous but not as shocked as he was.

"Ah, it seems I have made a mistake then," Professor McGonagall said as she slowly lowered her wand. "This isn't quite the way I intended this meeting to happen."

"I'll bloody say," Giles muttered as he looked at the woman. "Would you kindly explain what exactly just happened?" He asked, turning to Hermione this time for an explanation.

"Well…" Hermione winced as Professor McGonagall stood back from Rupert, her wand not pointing at anyone now but still her hand. "I'm a witch." She said simply, closing her eyes and waiting for the inevitable denial or shouting to begin.


	6. Chapter 6

Giles blinked a few times before letting out a slightly relieved sigh at this revelation, reaching up to remove his glasses he wordlessly held his hand out to Hermione who handed him back the hanky without comment.

"Did you hear me?" Hermione asked after a moment, watching Rupert clean his glasses thoroughly with one hand while pinching the bridge of his nose with the other.

"Yes, yes I heard you," Giles said after a moment, taking a deep breath he put his glasses back on and turned to Hermione with a soft smile. "May I ask if you are practitioner of the arts or a natural born witch?"

At Hermione's dumbfounded expression he continued with a small smile, explaining to the equally shocked Professor McGonagall at the same time, who in turn was just looking on in shock and bemusement.

"The reason I ask, my grandfather," Giles explained, holding back the urge to polish his glasses into oblivion. "Your great grandfather, Fyrloche was a natural sorcerer as well, long before he married Grandma Edna Giles if the tales are to believed, would you believe he was a baker as well at one time?"

"A… a sorcerer?" Hermione stammered out, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"Oh yes, rumour has it he was quite adept at elemental evocation and transmutation, though sadly lacking in conjuration." Giles explained with a soft smile. "No wonder your mother was so proud of you, following the family tradition in your own way, being as strong as she was and finding your own path."

"Mr Giles, I do believe…" Professor McGonagall tried to interrupt but Giles cut her off with a small chuckle.

"Is this what you were afraid of Hermione?" Giles asked, kneeling down to look her in the face. He could see instantly that he was correct, that she'd been afraid of being turned away by him when he found out she was a witch. "Oh Hermione, learning magick is nothing to be ashamed of, especially in this family." Giles laughed to himself before pulling Hermione in for a quick hug. "Look, I'll show you…" He trailed off as he stood up.

"Mr Giles, if you'd just listen for a moment…" Professor McGonagall tried again but was again unable to capture his attention.

"Vincire," Giles whispered, cupping his hand out for Hermione to see, there was a small flash of green light and Hermione's eyes widened at the sight of some undeniable emerald magic simply floating around in the hand held out in front of her.

"That's… that's…" Hermione stammered out, still staring at the magic that was completely unfathomable to her.

"I admit to being only a simple adept in these areas though, quite enough for a simple binding incantation such as this, as you can see," Giles explained, twisting his hand sharply to send the magic energy spinning around in circles in his palm. "If you'd like, I could teach you sometime."

"Merlin's beard!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed at last, her head down and staring over her own glasses at the impossible sight of a muggle doing magic in front of her.

Giles just chuckled to himself as he closed his hand, ending the incantation and stood up to face professor McGonagall. "I do apologise for our first meeting, I was shocked, I'm sure you understand. I was under the impression that neither Sarah nor Hermione possessed any of their own magick. Quite a shock to find someone teleporting into their living room in front of me," He paused with a small laugh before continuing. "Quite unlike elemental teleportation I've seen before though, possibly electrical or evocational in nature, judging from the sound of your entrance."

He smiled at the two of them who were simply looking at him as if he was crazy as he sat down in the chair he'd jumped out of not ten minutes ago and replaced Crookshanks on his lap before he started to stroke the cat again. "I will assume this is your familiar then," He smiled as Crookshanks nuzzled into his wrist. "Funny you should mention Merlin though, you are aware that our family dates back to Lady Morgana Pendragon, or as she was more commonly known, Morgana La Fey, and through her to her father, Uther Pendragon."

"You… you can't be serious," Professor McGonagall spluttered out.

"Oh yes, quite," Giles nodded with a smile. "I do have some interesting codex' in the family library which trace the family line back to Morgana La Fey who founded our bloodline during Uther's war against magic. There were even some members of our family who used to mistakenly hold the belief that Morgana started the bloodline with Merlin himself, though as I said, it's far more likely it was someone she settled with once Uther banished her from Camelot."

"You have records of this?" Hermione breathed out quietly; quite unable to believe what she was hearing. The very thought of a family library that contained records of her family dating right back to Merlin's time, it was unbelievable to say the least. She'd thought this meeting would have them trying to convince Rupert about magic and convince him to let her stay at Hogwarts and that she wasn't crazy.

Not only had he turned that completely on its head within half an hour of meeting her, but in the last ten minutes alone he'd introduced her to a form of magic that should be completely impossible, and brought out more historical knowledge of her family than she knew what to do with.

"Oh yes, you're perfectly welcome to read them at your leisure," Giles said with a smile as he caught the glint in her eye. "Am I to assume this 'boarding school' of yours is your coven then?" He asked, turning from Hermione to Professor McGonagall. "I can also assume you are the high priestess then, are you at all familiar with Patricia Emeralde?" He asked, ignoring the shocked look on her face. "The High Priestess of the Bath coven, quite an old family friend as well I should mention..."

"Mister… Mister Giles, I believe you have got completely the wrong end of the stick here," Professor McGonagall tried to rescue the situation from floundering around in areas she had absolutely no knowledge about, ignoring the curiosity that was burning inside her, she made a mental note to inform Albus of this intriguing development and allow him to research it, the very idea that muggles were performing wandless magic both frightened and amazed her. "Miss Granger is a witch."

"Yes, I believe we've established that," Giles chuckled to himself as he continued to stroke Crookshanks. "Though I believe sorceress or priestess would also be applicable to her."

"No, you don't understand," Professor McGonagall called his attention back to her by waving her wand at him harmlessly. "A witch, a muggle born witch. She attends Hogwarts, a school for witchcraft and wizardry Mister Giles, not a muggle coven. Don't just stand there, show him." The professor said exasperatedly to Hermione who pulled out her own wand with a small smile.

"A… a school you say?" Giles spluttered out as he looked at the two women with their wands. "Where they teach magic?" He reached up and pinched his nose. "And, I'm guessing by the wands you both carry, these are integral to the casting process?"

"Of course, wandless magic is extremely difficult to master, even our headmaster Albus Dumbledore is still learning and evolving the art." Professor McGonagall explained.

"Next you'll be telling me you ride around on broomsticks and have elves as pets," Giles snorted as he took off his glasses and started cleaning them against his sweater.

"I can ride one," Hermione answered in a small voice. "Not as well as Harry or Ron, and I don't have my own. But I can fly a broom at school."

"Of course not Mister Giles," Professor McGonagall defended herself politely at the same time as Hermione answered. "House elves are servants of wizards and witches."

Giles didn't know what to say to that, his glasses still half bunched in his sweater as he stared through unfocused eyes at the pair of them, both his hands frozen in the position they were in when their answers had filtered through to his brain.

"I rather think I need a stiff drink," Giles said softly after a few moments silence.

"I do think I'll join you," Professor McGonagall said, the Scottish twang in her accent making Giles genuinely smile at her for the first time since this explanation had begun.

* * *

"And you teach…" Giles trailed off, a bit lost at this conversation now. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought Sarah's little girl would have been a natural born witch, one using magic he'd never even heard of before either.

"Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall explained as she took another sip of the whiskey that Hermione had found for the both of them, it wasn't firewiskey as she knew it from the Wizarding world, but this 'Johnny Walker' has a unique taste that was quite pleasant on her tongue. "The act of turning one object into another."

"I see," Giles said after a moment of thought, taking his glass of whiskey and knocking it back in one gulp. "You'll forgive me; this is all a little hard to accept."

"I can imagine," Professor McGonagall nodded with a patient smile. "I am having the same trouble with your claims at magic running in your family, though you are obviously a muggle, you can also perform magic. This is unheard of."

"Muggle?" Giles questioned first. "And no, not quite unheard of," He chuckled to himself. "I know of quite a few magic users, I can assume the terminology is the same, witches and wizards, warlocks, or waerloga and sorcerers, alchemists and wiccans."

"We do not use the name Waerloga," Professor McGonagall said sharply, as if the word itself had offended her. "The name Waerloga is given to the worst of our kind, oath breakers, those who study the dark arts for their own benefit, regardless of how it hurts others. Warlock is an esteemed title however, earned only after many years of study."

"I apologise then," Giles said with a small nod. "I can see there is much to learn about, well, about your culture."

"And about yours," Professor McGonagall nodded back with a small smile, accepting his apology. "We do have alchemists, such as Nicholas Flamel, who sadly died last year."

"I see," Giles nodded again, refilling his glass. "I shall have to replace this for Hermione, jolly good of her to find it for us though."

"Quite," Professor McGonagall said as she moved over her glass for Mister Giles to refill as well. "She is quite an exceptional student, one of the brightest witches I have ever taught."

"I can well imagine," Giles said with a proud smile. "As I said before, I have no problems with Hermione returning to the school… sorry; I don't believe I caught the name of it before."

"Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said proudly. "The finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in Europe."

"Hogwarts then," Giles frowned at the strange word as he said it before continuing. "Yes, as I was saying, after Christmas, I assume you break for Christmas as well, or is your school term set around the pagan calendar?"

"We have Christmas break," Professor McGonagall explained. "Some students stay in the castle while others chose to return to their families over the festive period."

"Ah good," Giles smiled at her. "Then once the Christmas break is over, I see no reason for Hermione not to return to Hogwarts."

"I believe you will have made the young child very happy with that decision Mister Giles," Professor McGonagall smiled back at him. "You see, she was quite bereft at the idea of missing a year of schooling, perhaps even more so than missing her friends for the rest of the year."

"I can imagine," Giles laughed slightly. "She is studious then, getting on well with her subjects. And please, call me Rupert."

"Oh yes, Rupert," Professor McGonagall smiled at him, using his given name with a nod. "Quite one of the smartest witches of her age I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. Her grasp of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy is quite beyond her age. Though I do believe she was having some trouble in Divination early this year."

"Might I assume that Divination is the same as the word implies, such as scrying and crystal gazing?" Giles asked, wanting to make sure he had the right term for the subjects Hermione was being taught.

"Indeed," Professor McGonagall nodded. "Though Miss Granger believes Crystallomancy to be a waste of time I believe, they started studying the arts earlier this year, so perhaps she had yet to grasp the subject firmly."

"Perhaps," Giles nodded, a bit bemused by the idea of a school teaching Crystallomancy as a serious subject.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked as she walked into the kitchen gingerly, having left the two adults to talk on their own while she replaced the paperwork they had been sorting through back upstairs.

"Oh yes, quite," Giles smiled at her. "Professor McGonagall was just informing me of your scholastic aptitude, am I to believe Arithmancy," He paused, checking with Professor McGonagall that he'd used the correct term, then continuing when she nodded at him. "Is your favourite subject?"

"Mostly," Hermione nodded. "And Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts was good as well, Professor Lupin was teaching us how to defend against a Boggart a few weeks ago."

"A… no," Giles decided he didn't need any more terms to remember for the moment, picturing a 'Boggart' as some sort of dark spell or curse that the students were taught to defend against. "I must admit, today has been quite enlightening, not quite what I was expecting."

"I feel the same," Hermione smiled at him. "Would… could you teach me some of your magic sometime?" She asked quietly.

"Of course," Giles smiled over, her enthusiasm to learn anything knew seemed to be quite endearing he thought. "We do have much to discuss though, I have an appointment with Sarah's solicitor on Tuesday morning, would you like to come with me?"

"Solicitor?" Hermione asked, wondering what he was seeing them for.

"Yes, the meeting will to be to discuss your future," Giles explained, feeling a bit strange talking about discussing Hermione's future when she was obviously quite able to decide her own future for herself. "The phone call I received from them before was quite abrupt, it seems she was under the belief that I would either be taking you back to America with me, or leaving you to the social services system here."

Hermione didn't know quite what to say to that, was she going back to America with him, but he'd said she would be going back to Hogwarts. Did he expect her to transfer somewhere like the Salem Academy once the school year was over or was he going to leave her at Hogwarts while he went back to America. He obviously had a job or something over there, she chided herself for not thinking about what he had given up to come over on such short notice.

"I assure you, neither is the case," Giles smiled at her, noting her hesitation and worried look. "My family home in London is more than sizable enough, I am in the process of moving back in to the house itself, and there is plenty of room for you there."

"You… your family home?" Hermione asked in a small voice. She remembered him saying he would look after her, but she assumed he would either move in here with her or leave her at Hogwarts until she was old enough to get her own place.

"Oh yes," Giles nodded at her. "Quite a sizable estate in North Camden, one that has been in my family for generations I might add, and is part of your history as well. I was quite fortunate to find a lot of your mothers old possessions were still boxed up as well, toys clothes and the such."

"Mum's things, you still have them?" Hermione asked, amazed at the idea that there were belongings from when her mum was growing up at her uncle's house.

"Yes, I've yet to go through them myself though, something I mean to do this afternoon. As far as I am aware, her room is still decorated as she left it, you will be more than welcome to use her room while you stay with me, or one of the guest rooms if you prefer." Giles smiled at her amazed look. "I do believe it fitting that you take her room though, I believe it would be what she would want."

"Could… could I see it sometime?" Hermione asked, looking first at Giles and then towards Professor McGonagall.

"I don't see why not," Professor McGonagall answered first as Giles looked at her for her answer, as she was obviously the guardian the school had chosen for her during this difficult time.

"Perhaps Monday then?" Giles suggested with a smile. "I have some business to take care of tomorrow, arranging delivery of my possessions from Sunnydale and such. But you are both welcome to come over Monday to spend some time in the house."

"I'd like that," Hermione smiled back at him softly.

"Around lunch time then?" Giles asked as he glanced at his watch, it was only four in the afternoon now, they'd spent most of the day talking already, and he was still on Sunnydale time and feeling quite tired already.

"I shall arrange it," Professor McGonagall nodded at him.

"Excellent," Giles smiled. "Sorry, do you drive, or teleport everywhere like you did earlier? Can you bring along others when you teleport like that, again, I apologise. I am finding myself quite full with questions about your lifestyle and magic."

"Quite alright Rupert," Professor McGonagall smiled at him. "No, I do not drive as muggles do, and I can bring another along with me as I apparate."

"Apparate, thank you," Giles tested the new word and memorised it to research later. "Can you apparate as well Hermione?" He asked, turning to her.

"We haven't begun lessons yet," Hermione explained. "I've read the basic principal, but you need a license before the Ministry lets you apparate on your own."

"A license?" Giles asked, bemused at the idea of a license to perform magic. "Quite, so should I come to pick you up, or leave my address so you can find your own way."

"I believe your address would be best," Professor McGonagall explained. "If Miss Granger is going to be staying with you for any period of time, it would be best that we knew her whereabouts should anything happen and we need to get in contact."

"Yes, understandable," Giles nodded in agreement.

"What about the Floo Network?" Hermione asked, turning to Professor McGonagall. "Could we add Uncle Giles' house to the network, only until I go back to school of course Professor." Hermione asked, missing the fact that she'd called Rupert 'Uncle Giles' for the first time.

Giles didn't miss it though and looked at her with a small smile. "Floo Network?" He asked, another strange word and meaning that he didn't get.

"I don't see why not, I will however have to talk to the Ministry about turning a muggle fireplace into a Floo. There may be restrictions on what can and can't be done." Professor McGonagall explained.

"Fireplace?" Giles asked, unsure what his fireplace had to do with any kind of transportation.

"I will talk with the Department of Magical Transportation tomorrow, and see what we can arrange." Professor McGonagall explained with a smile towards Hermione, ignoring Giles' question for the moment. "But I believe apparating there will be fine for the time being."

"Hmm, yes, um, do you have some paper then Hermione?" Giles asked, looking around the living room for a postit or something he could write down his address on.

Hermione nodded before moving over to a desk at the edge of the room to retrieve some paper and a pencil. "Do… do you have any children Rupert?" She asked as she came back.

"No, sadly not," Giles smiled at her bashful question. "Sadly I was never married, there was one time I could have been perhaps, but the time has passed now." He smiled sadly, thinking back to Jenny Calendar and how he had actually seen a future for them together before Angelus killed her. Taking the offered paper and pencil he quickly wrote down the address of his family home. "I shall have a telephone hooked up soon, though I haven't quite had the chance yet."

"This should be fine," Professor McGonagall nodded as she looked at the address given to her before tapping the piece of paper gently with her wand. "Geminio." She whispered, causing the paper to split itself into two identical pieces with the address on both. "I shall owl Professor Dumbledore with the address as well, to add to your personal file." She explained to Hermione.

"Yes, well," Giles spluttered at the obvious use of unfamiliar magic in front of him. "I believe I should be off, sadly my body is still accustomed to the time zone in Sunnydale, and today has left me feeling quite exhausted."

"Before you go Rupert," Professor McGonagall interrupted as Giles moved to stand up from the table. "I have these for you; the Ministry gives these to muggle families with magical children, as reference books mainly though you may also request a test at the Ministry to interact fully with our world." She explained as she pulled out a pile of books, each of them only about an inch in either direction as she placed them on the table.

"Thank you," Giles said, looking at the tiny books on the table. "I confess with my aging eyesight, these may be a problem for me to read."

"Miss Granger, if you would be so kind," Professor McGonagall said with a smile, nodding when Hermione hesitated.

"But we're not allowed to use magic at home professor," Hermione explained, for the benefit of Giles as well as justifying herself.

"That was one of the reasons we visited the Ministry yesterday, you have permission to use magic at home for your studies until you return to Hogwarts. Though you must be extra careful, lest muggles start investigating any strange happenings." Professor McGonagall explained.

"Again, may I ask, 'muggles'?" Giles asked with a bemused look.

"Non-magical people," Hermione explained. "People who can't use magic are muggles, and people who can't use magic but were born in a wizarding family are called squibs."

"Ah, thank you," Giles nodded with a smile, taking off his glasses to polish them as he tried to remember these terms along with the dozens of others he had already heard today.

Hermione stepped towards the table and pointed her wand at the small pile of books there. "Engorgio!" She said strongly as she flicked her wand towards the books, causing them to grow back to their original size.

"W.O.M.B.A.T?" Giles asked as he picked up the first large book from the now normal sized pile of books, while they appeared to be quite modern and well kept, they also had the feeling of old books and well-aged parchment in the pages.

"The Wizards' Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptitude Test," Professor McGonagall explained. "It's not expected of you to learn everything in these books, nor actually sit the exams. It has just become tradition to pass these books on to muggle families when a witch or wizard is born into them. To give them an understanding of our world and explain the differences and words you may encounter."

"Ah, very thoughtful of you, thank you." Giles said softly as he flicked through the pages in the first book. Various chapter titles stood out to him, like 'Department of International Magical Cooperation' and 'Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office,' there also seemed to be questions at the end of each chapter, one that caught his eye was 'Which of the following unorthodox means of transportation is considered the most serious breach of the International Statute of Secrecy?' "I shall read these through and endeavour to return them to you."

"In your own time Rupert," Professor McGonagall nodded at him. "Our world is quite extensive, I'm sure no one expects you to master all the terms and knowledge by next week." She let out a small as Giles smiled thankfully at her as he closed the book in his hands.

"Well, it was very nice to meet both of you," Giles said with a smile, looking at Hermione first. "Quite illuminating as well, I must admit to feeling quite out of my depth here."

"As most muggles do upon their first introduction to our world," Professor McGonagall explained with a smile. "I look forward to our next meeting however, and reading these books you have on your family history."

"I shall make sure they are ready for you on Monday," Giles nodded, seeing Hermione was just as excited to hear about the family libraries he had in the house. "And I look forward to seeing you then."

"Thank you Rupert," Hermione said in a small voice as she watched him put his shoes back on before collecting the books together.

"Please, think nothing of it." Giles smiled at her. "I'm looking forward to showing you some photos of your mother from when she was young; you look quite like her you know."

"Mum said that," Hermione nodded with a smile at him as he made his way to the front door, after an awkward moment where she was unsure if she should hug him or not.

"Then I shall take my leave," Giles smiled at Professor McGonagall. "I was delightful to meet you as well Professor."

"You too Mister Giles," Professor McGonagall said as she stepped forward to shake his hand gently.

They both stood back as Giles smiled at them one last time before leaving and closing the door behind him, both of them turning to each other at the same time, questions bubbling up in both of them now that he had left so they could speak freely about what had just happened and what it actually meant for Hermione now.

Meanwhile outside Giles was thinking exactly the same, he had so many questions about the world his neice was apparently part of, how her magic differed to any other sort of magic he had encountered before. Hopefully the books in his hand answered some of the questions he had, but he had so many others about their world, what the words meant and how they governed it. Questions about how they licensed or regulated magic, how long their world had been separate from the normal world, who else knew about it and what exactly they taught at this school his niece was attending.

He was still thinking up new questions when he reached the car, placing the books gently on the passenger seat without even thinking about it as he started the ignition and buckled up. He was practically driving on autopilot until he reached the motorway, just driving in silence as his brain tried to piece together everything they'd talked about. The biggest question being why Sarah hadn't told him about any of this, she knew magic ran in their family, so when Hermione started using magic, why hadn't she called him to talk about it with him?

These questions and others filtered out of his mind as he concentrated on the drive home, where he would throw himself into the books with abandonment, also call up a few friends from the old days and see what they knew about the wizarding world. Some of his friends must know about it, he was just amazed that he had never come across them in his time as Ripper or his time working at The Council; surely they must have knowledge of this world at least.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione sat on her bed just thinking about the day's events so far, she'd actually met her uncle Rupert now, and while he wasn't what she was expecting exactly, she could see so far that he was a kind-hearted man who loved knowledge as much as she did.

The question about his magic and his claim to family history was what was bothering her now, as she lay there, stroking Crookshanks with one hand and idly thumbing her collectors card of Morgan Le Fey from a Chocolate Frog box. She had three of the cards; Ron had told her that Morgan La Fey was one of the more popular cards that were in the series.

Flipping the card over in her hand she read the back of it, much of which she already knew. That Morgan was a dark witch, a skilled animagus and a practiced healer. "Born twelve oh two, to Uther Pendragon," Hermione read off the bottom of the card quietly, her voice catching when she couldn't find a date of her death on the card.

It was well known that Merlin was around at the same time as the other four great wizards of the time, the four great wizards who founded Hogwarts. So it made sense that Morgan was around at the same time as well, but for someone to claim that she was actually related, no matter how distantly, to a dark witch like Morgan, if it had come from anyone else she would have dismissed it instantly.

She lay back on the bed and just considered this, it was obvious that Rupert didn't know that Morgan had been a witch like she was, from the way he described his family, he assumed that she used the same magic as he did. Sadly there didn't seem to be much information about Morgan in the history books she had brought with her for school work, there was plenty of information about Merlin and the middle ages, about Hogwarts being founded and the four founders, but it was almost like someone had removed any mention of Morgan from the history books entirely.

She just lay there for a bit in the silence, thinking about the magic Rupert had used now, completely different to any sort of magic she had seen before. She knew Professor Dumbledore was skilled at wandless casting, she'd seen him perform spells before without using his wand, much like Professor McGonagall performed spells without using incantations.

But for a muggle to use magic like that, and to actually hold magic in his hand without using it for anything, that was a sort of magic that both intrigued her and frightened her. The knowledge and skill it must take for something like that must be incredible, half of her wanted to know absolutely everything about it instantly, the other half was worried that the magic he used must be dark magic, if it came from Morgana Le Fey's blood line, then it must be dark magic. But did that make her a dark witch for belonging to the same blood line, if Rupert's claims were true that was.

All these questions and more rattled around in her brain as she tried to sleep, resting in the silence alone in the house for a bit while Minerva returned to Hogwarts to talk to Professor Dumbledore. She'd be back soon she hoped, then they could talk more about her Uncle Rupert and what she was going to do.

* * *

"Are you quite sure Minerva?" Dumbledore asked, staring over his half-moon glasses at Professor McGonagall as she explained her encounter with Mr Giles.

"I am Albus; what's more, he claims to descend from Morgan Le Fey herself." Professor McGonagall explained with a distraught look on her face. "His magic, Albus, I've never seen anything like it before."

"Hmm," Professor Dumbledore paused as he stroked his beard and stood up from the desk, walking around the room to fetch a book from the shelf on the far wall. "And your impressions of the man Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall paused at this; Mister Giles hadn't set off any warning bells with her, in fact, if anything, he seemed quite personable and welcoming. "A good man I think, quite like Miss Granger in some respects."

"Quite, quite," Dumbledore smiled as he flicked through the book in question. "No, no, there don't seem to have been any Giles's at Hogwarts, not that are registered anyway." He nodded to himself before returning the book and twitching his finger, causing another book, this time from the top shelf, to fly down into his hands.

"But his magic Albus, however did he do it?" Professor McGonagall asked as she watched him leaf through the book he'd pulled down. "He seems, well, a muggle. They can't use magic, can they?"

"As a rule no," Dumbledore frowned. "Not that I or the Ministry are aware of anyway." Dumbledore paused as he moved back over to Professor McGonagall. "Sadly there aren't any paintings of Morgan Le Fey left at Hogwarts, those that were here, were confiscated by the Order of Merlin many moons ago."

"This, this is him Albus!" Professor McGonagall said in shock as Professor Dumbledore handed the book over for her to see. "This is the man himself, Mister Giles."

"That, my dear, is Uther Pendragon," Dumbledore pointed out. "Father to Arthur Pendragon and Morgan Pendragon, or as they are more commonly known…"

"King Arthur of Camelot of Lady Morgana Le Fey of Avalon," Professor McGonagall breathed out in shock. Now she could see the picture properly there were similarities but they were obviously not the same man. While the Uther in the picture moved with regal precision and seemed to look down on everyone, Mister Giles had a more casual air to him and a welcoming feeling. "The resemblance is uncanny Albus, I see the differences now, but they could be brothers."

"A familial similarity perhaps, passed down through the generations," Dumbledore nodded in his assessment. "But that is secondary to the discussion here today."

"Oh?" Minerva asked as she handed the book back to him.

"Do you believe Miss Granger will be safe with this Mister Giles?" Dumbledore asked, obviously evaluating her opinion of the man as she thought about it.

"Yes, I believe so," Professor McGonagall nodded. "He cares about her, and is willing to protect her as family should. I believe he'll be a good influence upon the child."

"Good," Dumbledore nodded at her with a small smile. "Because while you have been gone, there have been disturbing developments here, and I would much like you to return as soon as possible, with Miss Granger's safety paramount of course."

"Of course," Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. "What has happened Albus?"

"Sirius Black has been sighted in the castle," Dumbledore said simply, as if reading the daily news. "It appears he made an attempt to enter the Gryffindor common room but was repelled by the Fat Lady."

"My god, the students…" Professor McGonagall started but was cut off by Dumbledore raising his hand.

"Are fine Minerva," Dumbledore explained patiently. "No one was harmed or saw Sirius enter or leave the castle grounds."

"I shall return at once Albus, the children…" Professor McGonagall began to leave but was stopped again by Dumbledore.

"Miss Granger needs you now Minerva," Dumbledore smiled at her. "The students are fine; Professor Flitwick is taking care of them in your absence. I believe he can manage one or two more days without you."

"I am taking Miss Granger to meet Mister Giles again on Monday, to visit his house. Would you think it best I leave Miss Granger there and return after the meeting?" Professor McGonagall asked, obviously torn between her obligation to Hermione and her obligation to the school.

"I believe that would be best," Professor Dumbledore nodded. "If Mister Giles' house is suitable accommodation for Miss Granger over the Christmas period, it might be safer for her to remain there away from the threat here."

"You… you don't believe he's after Mister Potter do you?" Professor McGonagall asked in horror.

"You know as well as I Minerva, Sirius is Harry's Godfather, as the one the betrayed James and Lilly to You-know-who, I can only assume he broke out of Azkaban to betray Harry the same way." Dumbledore sighed. "I have arranged for Miss Granger's first two weeks of class work and homework to be left on her bed, if you could take them when you return I would be thankful."

"Of course Albus, I think she'll be thankful of the distraction." Professor McGonagall said with a small smile.

"How is she managing, the strain must be unbearable for her." Dumbledore asked in a quiet voice.

"Better, she has her moments of weakness, but the girl is stronger than most give her credit for Albus. She'll stand fine on her own, I believe her will is second only to Potter's will to get in to trouble." Professor McGonagall smiled at this as Dumbledore let out a snort of laughter.

"God help us all then," Dumbledore smiled over. "If you wouldn't mind, I believe Mister Potter and Mister Weasley would like to know how their friend is doing before you leave; you may give them the address as well, so they may owl her in person."

"Of course Albus," Professor McGonagall nodded at him with a smile. "I shall return Monday then."

Dumbledore just nodded at her before she left, closing the door to his study behind her. "Curiouser and curiouser," He muttered to himself as he opened the book again, the face of Uther Pendragon staring out at him across the page as he reset the golden crown on his head with a regal glare out of the book.

* * *

Giles couldn't believe what he was reading as he flicked through the book in front of him, the first of three that had been given to him by Hermione's professor. A world, completely separate from his own, and completely separate from the normal world. A world where myth and magic were accepted and real, where wizards and witches went to school to master their magic using wands, where the rode broomsticks in a game called 'Quidditch' and had house-elves as housekeepers.

Taking a sip of his tea he turned the page, starting a chapter on the Ministry of Magic and the Statute of secrecy, he nearly spat his tea all over the book when he read the first couple of lines, how the Ministry of Magic routinely Obliviated muggles minds who encounter magic who weren't supposed to.

Pressing his finger to the word 'Obliviated' he flicked open the second book he had next to this one, this one was possibly the most useful he'd come across yet, an appendix or dictionary of sorts of Wizarding Words and Phrases. Leafing through it quickly until he came to the spells section, he checked the spelling of the word 'Obliviated', assuming the normal word would have been Obliviate, he started running his other finger down the page to find the word he was looking for.

"Mobiliarbus, Mobilicorpus, Muffliato, Nox," He muttered aloud to himself as he flicked through the various spells. "Ah, yes, Obliviate. oh-BLI-vee-ate. Must they write these as if intended for children?" He muttered to himself before continuing. "The Obliviate spell modifies or erases portions of a person's memory. These spells are used routinely by the Ministry of Magic as they work to keep the wizarding world a secret from the Muggles." Giles frowned to himself, removing his glasses and polishing them thoroughly.

He didn't like the sound of that one bit, the fact this Ministry of Magic, the government for Wizards and Witches it seemed, was playing with people's memories on such a grand level. That made him more than a bit uneasy, playing with people's memories, modifying or erasing their minds, which was especially dark magic, the sort of dark magick that corrupted.

"You ok Rupert?" Marcus asked as he walked into the kitchen to return the pint glass he'd been drinking from outside while he repaired some of the fences around the bordering lands.

"Hmm, yes, sorry," Giles muttered as he closed both the books tightly shut. "Got rather engrossed there for a minute."

"You sure mate?" Marcus asked with a raised eyebrow. "Look like you've seen a ghost or something. You ain't been in your old man's study again have you?"

"No, no, nothing of the sort," Giles chuckled at the thought, remembering how as a child he'd snuck into his father's study to take some of his books on advanced magick for his studying. He couldn't remember exactly why, but he was scared stiff of the room ever since, he never set foot in the place again but still couldn't remember why.

"What's wrong then, thought you said Sarah's little one was all fine and dandy, well, fine as someone could be after losing their parents of course." Marcus said as he washed the glass up and left it on the side to dry.

"Just some troubling information, nothing to worry about I'm sure," Giles nodded. "And while we're on the subject, perhaps it is time that I investigated the old study myself."

"You sure mate?" Marcus laughed as he walked over. "I remember last time you went in there, came out white as a sheet." He laughed at Giles' mild glare sent his way. "Swear that room turned you grey early." He grinned as he nodded to Giles' slowly greying hair.

"Quite," Giles sighed as he gathered the books together. "I can assume it's unlocked?"

"Guess so," Marcus shrugged. "If not, key'll be in the desk in your bedroom, that's where I put them all to keep from losing them."

"Thank you," Giles nodded as he stood up and moved to leave the kitchen area, taking the books with him in case Marcus got curious and decided to investigate them for himself. He knew eventually he would have to explain this world to Marcus, especially if Hermione would be moving in with them, but he thought it prudent to wait and talk to Professor McGonagall about it first, he especially wanted to talk with her about their government's excessive use of memory spells. Especially if one could be cast on Marcus just for him talking about everything with him.

Moving slowly up the stairs he continued his train of thought, wondering exactly what sort of magick Hermione was learning at this school of theirs, was she being taught dark magick like memory altering spells as well, or were they reserved just for the government and protecting their secrets from normal people?

He was still deep in thought when he reached the top of the stairs and turned to go down the hallway towards where he knew his father's personal study was. He kept telling himself he had no reason to fear the room anymore, his father was long dead now, and the room, and the house, were effectively his now to do with what he pleased. He idly thought about asking Marcus to rip the entire room out so he could redecorate it into something useful, maybe another guest room or a separate room for Hermione's familiar cat.

The idea did bring a smile to his face as he approached the door he'd consciously stayed away from for over thirty years now. Taking a deep breath he steadied himself before reaching for the doorknob and twisting it gently, half of him hoping to find some resistance to the door and find it locked, however to his regret, the door opened easily and swung in towards the room without a sound.

* * *

"Ah, Mister Potter, Mister Weasley, good." Professor McGonagall smiled as she entered the Gryffindor common room to find it mostly empty aside from Harry and Ron sat on one of the sofa's discussing something, a few of their housemates were mulling around but not particularly doing anything or paying anyone attention.

"Professor!" Harry was the first one to stand up. "How is she?"

"Yeah, is she alright?" Ron asked practically at the same time as he stood up behind Harry.

"Miss Granger is quite well I assure you both," Professor McGonagall explained gently. "I have been asked to give you this," She smiled gently as she handed across a copy of the address she had given to Professor Dumbledore. "You may owl here to this address after Monday evening, if all goes well, Miss Granger may well be returning to Hogwarts after the festive period."

"That's great Professor!" Harry smiled enthusiastically as he took the address from her. "How is her uncle, I mean, did you meet him?"

"Yes, I have met the man," Professor McGonagall nodded slowly. "I believe he will be good for Miss Granger, perhaps more than she knows."

"What's he like?" Ron asked. "Is he a muggle too, like Hermione's parents, or a wizard?"

"Mister Giles is… unique shall we say," Professor McGonagall struggled to find a word to describe Rupert without giving away what she'd seen the man do. "A thirst for knowledge like Miss Granger, and friendly as well. He reminds me much of you Mister Potter, fiercely protective over his friends and family, a worrying combination should anyone attempt to harm Miss Granger I believe."

"Is that good?" Ron asked, a bit confused over what Professor McGonagall had said.

"I believe so," Professor McGonagall smiled gently at him, seeing how protective he was over Hermione made her wonder if there was anything more than just friendship developing between the two. "He has libraries of books apparently for Miss Granger to study, and claims to have knowledge of his family stretching back to Morgan Le Fey, which I'm sure intrigued Miss Granger more than anything."

"Wow, does that make Hermione a pure-blood witch then?" Ron asked, trying to figure this out in his mind, something was worrying him about the way Professor McGonagall described Hermione's uncle but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Miss Granger was born to two muggles Mister Weasley, as I am sure you are aware," Professor McGonagall explained patiently. "The nature of her ancestry does not affect how she was born, pure-blood, muggle-born or otherwise. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to Miss Granger before nightfall, it wouldn't do well to leave her alone for so long at such a delicate time."

"Of course, say hi for us won't you, and tell her we'll owl Monday night." Harry smiled as Professor McGonagall moved the leave the common room.

"Of course Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall smiled at him. "I shall see you both in class Tuesday morning, and I hope you have been listening to Professor Flitwick on his transfiguration lessons, as I will be testing all of you."

"Yes professor," Both Harry and Ron nodded at the same time as Professor McGonagall turned around and walked out of the common room, leaving them both looking at each other.

* * *

Hermione sat at the kitchen table quietly, half nibbling on a piece of toast after putting some food and water down for Crookshanks to enjoy.

Everything around the house just seemed wrong now, the silence, the way the pillows and rugs were still over the television. She knew she should move them off but just hadn't got around to it yet. Even Crookshanks seemed to think something was wrong, as he was continuously nuzzling up against her legs as she walked around the house, never leaving her alone. Quite a change from the independent cat-kneasle that he used to be, back at Hogwarts she could go days without seeing him sometimes as he explored the castle and found his own way around.

Currently though she was half-reading through the History of Hogwarts again, for about the fifteenth time, while nursing a cold cup of tea and rapidly cooling toast. She was searching through any books that could mention Morgan Le Fey, and since she knew she was a contemporary of Merlin, hence a contemporary of the four founding wizards of Hogwarts, that made the history of Hogwarts book the best place to start in her opinion.

She hadn't been able to find anything about Morgan Le Fey in her other history books, mostly because they were dealing with European history this term in class, the Dragon Wars and Veela hunts of the eighteenth century in France. So most of her history books were dealing with the wrong continent and date period entirely, the only one that might have a veiled reference was one talking about a wandering dark witch through France and Germany in the twelve forties, who apparently was a gifted healer but sought out seclusion, killing all those who sought her out.

Hearing the tell-tale crack of apparition in the building, she immediately flicked her head around towards the living room door, subconsciously going for her wand until she saw Professor McGonagall walk through into the kitchen.

"Professor, is everything alright?" Hermione asked, noting the worried look on the professor's face.

"Fine child, everything is fine. Your friends say hello," Professor McGonagall smiled as he as she laid down three books and some parchment on the kitchen table. "How are you keeping?"

"I'm alright I guess," Hermione said with a small nod. "Trying to eat something, but I guess I'm still not very hungry."

"All well and good, but you should at least try," Professor McGonagall frowned as she nodded towards the half nibbled piece of toast on Hermione's plate. "Even a sandwich will do, we can't have you wasting away or too weak to practice now, can we?"

"No professor," Hermione shook her head slowly. "I'll try."

"That's all that I ask," Minerva smiled softly at her. "Your friends say they will owl you on Monday evening, I am sure you will be happy to hear from them."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled.

"However, I must return to Hogwarts on Monday, sadly I am needed there." Professor McGonagall explained slowly in a sad voice. "Which means child, you will be staying with your Uncle Rupert from Monday evening on."

"Professor, I…" Hermione started to argue, thinking she could take care of herself in the house for at least a few weeks until she had to return to Hogwarts after Christmas.

"I'm afraid you must," Professor McGonagall said, interrupting Hermione's protest. "You are still under age, as such, must be staying with a guardian when not at Hogwarts. It's for your own safety as well Miss Granger; we are not trying to force this upon you of our own choice."

Hermione just sat there for a moment in silence, trying to digest what Professor McGonagall had told her. In her mind she knew what she was being told was the best for her, especially since Sirius Black was on the loose now. There was no telling where that crazy wizard was, so she would be a lot safer with her new uncle than she would be alone. Also it would be nice to have someone over the Christmas holidays to stay with, she didn't think she could bare Christmas alone, without her parents there with her in the house it would feel just wrong.

"I… I understand professor," She said after a few moments, thinking about it properly.

"Good," Professor McGonagall nodded at her. "There is still no reason your Uncle Rupert cannot come back with you here to collect items or help you with anything, this is still your house now, lest you forget."

Hermione just nodded, she hadn't thought about that before. It was her house now, not her mum or dad's. Her place. The thought hadn't even registered with her prior to Professor McGonagall explaining it to her. Did her mum have a mortgage on it anymore, was she expected to pay for it now, what about bills, electricity and gas, how was she going to afford it all and still go to Hogwarts?

These questions swam through her mind as she idly reached out and nibbled on the piece of toast some more, staring at the history book in front of her, but for some reason the writing on the pages just didn't make sense anymore to her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Giles sighed to himself as he walked in to what used to be his father's private study; it was quite a large room on the second floor of the family home, with only one or two windows against the far wall letting in light, casting the rest of the room into gloomy shadows.

Flicking on the main light so he could see better he smiled to himself, in his mind he knew there was nothing to be frightened of here, an old study filled with ancient tombs and codices, two thick ornate desks were arranged on either side of the room, while further down three extremely sumptuous leather chairs were arranged around a fireplace.

The chairs were the same dark stained oak finish, with deep red leather padding on the back rest and base of the chair, giving them a mildly plumped up and comfortable look. Above the fireplace hung a large painting of a woman in medieval dress, sneering down at him with long brown hair falling around her shoulders and across her chest, her green eyes shining while even the green dress she was wearing seemed to shimmer out of the brushwork of the paint.

"I don't suppose you are going to tell me why I was afraid to come in here?" Giles asked rhetorically up at the painting before chuckling under his breath and looking around.

The other wall of the main study was filled with books, shelves running the entire length and breadth of the wall, each of them full with leather bound codices with the occasion scroll on wooden platform. Even the desks and chairs had a thick layer of dust covering them, and he left footprint impressions in the thick red rug in the center of the room as he walked over it, disturbing the years of dust that had settled there.

"No, I thought not," Giles muttered to himself as he moved to walk out of the room, his curiosity sated for the time. There was nothing in the room that gave him an air of danger or caution, the only thing he didn't particularly like was the painting sneering down at the entire room from above the fireplace. He would have to come back in here at some point to go through the books and scrolls, remove any potentially dangerous ones to a safer location.

Another thought occurred to him as he reached the doorway, placing the pile of books on the corner desk by the door he took another look around the room. It had served as a private study for his father for as long as he was alive, it was fitting that it would be kept that way. He'd have all the books from the other libraries that dealt with The Council, Slayers or any dangerous Magick's moved to this room, that way he could keep it locked and away from prying eyes.

Leaving the books Professor McGonagall had given him on the corner table for the moment, he closed the door behind him and moved off back to the bedroom so he could locate the key to the room, when he had more time he would perform the necessary rituals on the door to enchant and lock it against anyone but himself from entering, no point in taking risks with dangerous books or knowledge.

* * *

Later that evening at Hogwarts, Harry and Ron were sat on one of the comfortable sofas in the Gryffindor common room, most of their other housemates had gone to bed already, ready for the trip to Hogsmead in the morning.

Harry was still upset that Vernon hadn't signed his permission slip, but that worry had since fallen too the wayside of his mind as his thoughts drifted to Hermione and how she was coping alone. He wished he could go and talk to her, talk about how he'd lost his parents as well, of course, they weren't strictly the same thing. He'd never known his parents, or didn't remember them anyway, while Hermione had.

"Here, I knew I brought one with me," Ron said with a flourish as he pulled out the card from his collection of Chocolate Frog trading cards, Witches and Wizards through the ages. "See, I told you!" Ron frowned as he gave Harry the card to look at.

"Morgan Le Fey," Harry read off the card. "Yeah, so what?"

"She's a dark witch, one of the worst, Merlin's enemy!" Ron explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's rumoured she was even one of Salazar Slytherin's teachers."

"Ron, this is a trading card," Harry said, flicking over the card and reading Morgan's attributes on the back.

"Exactly, I've got six of them back at the Burrow," Ron explained. "Professor McGonagall said that Hermione's uncle claimed to be related to her."

"Ron, she was alive nearly eight hundred years ago, even pure blood families can't trace their ancestry back that far," Harry said with a small frown as he read on the back of the card how Morgan was a skilled Animagus who's specific form was a raven.

"So how can Hermione's uncle say he was related to her?" Ron asked with hand hands open as if to say 'explain that then'.

"I don't know, maybe it's a boast, like Gilderoy claimed to be descended from Merlin or something." Harry explained, his eyes drifting back to the fire as he handed the card back to Ron.

"And we know how that ended, don't we," Ron half smiled, remembering how the memory charm had back fired on Gilderoy Lockhart when they were trying to find the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets last year, erasing his memory permanently. "So why claim to be descended from the worst dark magic user in history then? Why not claim to be descended from Merlin or someone?"

"Unless…" Harry caught on to what Ron was saying.

"Unless he's a dark wizard too!" Ron exclaimed.

"We've got to warn her," Harry nodded. "He could be in line with Sirius, serving Voldemort; he's probably a death eater himself."

"How, we can't owl her until Monday? It could be too late by then; he could have done anything with her." Ron exclaimed as he stood up and started to pace around by the fireplace. "He's probably just using her to get to you, trying to worm his way in and then kill you when he gets close."

"Ron, not everything is about me," Harry sighed, but as much as he wanted to deny it, Ron did raise some valid points, but they couldn't go back to London, not as the school year had only just started. "I've got it!" Harry grinned over at Ron.

"What?" Ron asked, pausing in his pacing.

"I'll send Dobby," Harry grinned up. "He's been lost since last year, and he can protect Hermione from the death eater. He'd probably love to be useful again, and this way he can help Hermione and stay away from me at the same time."

"He was trying to save your life," Ron explained, remembering the fiasco of last year quite well.

"And he almost got us expelled, no, it's perfect. Dobby can protect Hermione, and keep an eye on her uncle, that way we'll know if he's trying anything or hiding something from her." Harry smiled.

"Only one problem, how do we contact him?" Ron asked.

"Simple," Harry grinned. "He's staying in the kitchens with the other house-elves here; he was trying to get a job at Hogwarts but hasn't plucked up the courage to talk to Dumbledore yet." Harry moved off the sofa and headed towards the door. "Are you coming then?"

"The kitchens, they're down by the dungeons," Ron said as he moved slowly across to stand next to Harry. "Near Snape's office."

"We'll be careful, if anyone asks, just say we were hungry and were going for a snack," Harry explained. "Now, come on."

* * *

Giles spend most of Sunday preparing the house for Hermione and Professor McGonagall's arrival the next day, having spent the morning going through the libraries and studies in the house, finding as many books, codices and scrolls regarding The Council and Slayers and he could, and removing them to the locked study on the second floor.

Strangely, Marcus seemed as excited as he was to have Hermione coming over for the day, possibly more so. He'd stocked up the kitchen and pantry with various foods, having been out several times during the day to collect more shopping for the house. Now it was apparent that Rupert and Hermione were going to be living there for the foreseeable future he'd taken it upon himself to go through the entire house, checking everything was perfect and liveable with.

All the dust sheets were now hidden away in the cellar, all the floors had been wiped down and stairs hoovered. The various coats of arms and swords around the house had been all moved into the practice room, where Rupert's old fencing equipment and certificates still were displayed on the wall proudly, despite Rupert asking him to take them down.

The lock on the second floor study had been changed to a modern three bar lock, to which Rupert had the only key now, and the grounds had all been checked over for dangers, fences repaired and the stables thoroughly cleaned through.

Currently they were both relaxing in the kitchen, well, Giles was relaxing while reading through one of his father's old diaries that he'd found in one of the desks around the house, while Marcus was putting away various bits of shopping in the cupboards. His usual messy hair now hung around his shoulders instead of being tied back in a ponytail and his clothes were thick with dust from cleaning out the summoning room, the fire outside pointed to the various artefacts and books that had been burnt instead of finding a safe home, turning the fire a soft green colour as it smouldered away on the far side of the grounds near the bungalow.

"You think she'll like the room then?" Marcus asked as he closed the last cupboard door, scrunching up the plastic bag the shopping had come in and tossing it in the rubbish bin.

"Hmm?" Giles asked, looking up from the diary. "Yes, while I don't think soft orange and beige are quite her colours, she can redecorate it if she wants to."

"Suppose," Marcus nodded. They'd taken time going through Sarah's old things, laying out the cuddly toys around the room, putting photos of Sarah on the desk and bedside tables. The large four poster bed had been dusted down with brand new bedding and quilts, and the soft pink rabbit toy lay on the pillows in the center of the bed, ready for Hermione to see. "Put most of the clothes in the wardrobes, there's still a box or two full of them though, put them down in the cellar if you wanted to go through them."

"I assume there's space in the wardrobes for Hermione's clothes still?" Giles chuckled to himself as Marcus nodded at him.

"When do you think she'll move in then?" Marcus asked as he poured himself a glass of orange juice and leaned back against the kitchen counter, opening the window to let some fresh air into the room.

"I'm not quite sure," Giles answered honestly. "Her teacher, Professor McGonagall, is supposed to return to the school on Wednesday, so I assume she will come to stay then."

"Sounds like a good school, taking care of their students like that," Marcus said before taking another mouthful of the orange juice.

"Hmm," Giles muttered indecisively, he still had his dubious thoughts about Hogwarts and this magical community that Hermione was now part of. The books Professor McGonagall had given him had done nothing to assuage his fears about the Ministry of Magic, if anything, reading through the books had made him think worse of the wizards and witches that seemed to run the community. Flaunting their magic over 'muggles' and changing their views or memories if they clashed with what the wizards wanted to do, it all reeked of dark magic to him.

Even the terms used by these wizards seemed derogatory towards normal people, calling them 'muggles' and 'squibs', there were even chapters in the books dissuading 'muggle' families from contacting their wizarding children while at Hogwarts. The more he read the more it became apparent that the wizarding world had done all it could do to actually hide itself from the normal world, even going so far as to enforcing their own laws and monetary system. There were chapters explaining how to exchange money into wizarding money for their children to take, chapters on the different magical animals the students may bring home from Hogwarts as familiars and how a 'muggle' should take care of them.

One of the more worrying chapters was on The Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans, where half of the chapter actually made him think the wizarding world wasn't as bad as he thought, until he read further and nearly dropped the book in horror.

While the wizarding world discouraged discrimination towards other 'part-humans', there were recently edited portions of the chapter talking about a new law called the 'anti-werewolf legislation', apparently only enforced earlier this year. Where werewolves were now forced to register with the Ministry of Magic and had to divulge their status on any job application.

While the blatant discrimination worried him and made him frown, it wasn't the most worrying part of that chapter. The thing that made him nearly drop the book in horror was the fact that vampires seemed to be welcomed into the wizarding world. Apparently vampires were recognised citizens in the wizarding world, having shops especially dedicated to them, blood flavoured food so they could live amongst the rest of the community, regardless of the danger they presented.

Vampires apparently even had the right to vote and own homes, have their own banks and go to school with other students in the wizarding world. Giles couldn't believe what he was reading, apparently there were even vampire authors in the wizarding world, selling stories of their own long lives and had fans fawning over them. The book mentioned two further books that he would have to ask for later reading, one apparently written by a vampire himself, Amarillo Lestoat wrote the book 'A Vampire's Monologue', which the Ministry of Magic was actually recommending people to read should they encounter a vampire.

Another book called 'Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires' was apparently recommended should their child be turned into a vampire or express a wish to join the vampire covens. After reading this paragraph, Giles had slammed the book closed, resisting the urge to throw the book out of the window or into a nearby fire.

"You ok mate?" Marcus asked, calling Giles away from his thoughts.

"Yes, sorry," Giles shook his head to clear away the thoughts and closed the diary in front of him. "Where was I? Oh yes, Wednesday more than likely, plenty of time for us to prepare the rest of the house."

"Sure, I'll get on with the gardens tomorrow; need to get the rest of the stables sorted before the girls come back tonight." Marcus said with a smile as he finished off his orange juice and put the glass in the sink.

"You'll explain to them we are busy tomorrow of course, I'd rather like to spend the time just with Hermione and her teacher if possible, maybe let Hermione take the horses out if she so wishes." Giles explained as Marcus moved to leave the kitchen and go back outside.

"Sure thing, already planned on telling them to hold off for a week or so, give the lass some time to settle in," Marcus nodded with a smile. "Never know, she might be glad of some company her own age though, can't be easy for her now, 'specially with Christmas coming up."

"Indeed," Giles nodded slowly. "An emotional time of year at the best of times, sadly I feel a difficult one for Hermione, losing her parents just before the holidays must be hard for her."

"Got that right," Marcus nodded. "Oh, I put a deadbolt on the summoning room as well; just in case there's anything there I missed. Key's in the bungalow if you need it for anything."

"Thank you," Giles nodded. "I'm sure that will suffice, if not, we can always brick the door itself up." He chuckled as he finished off his cup of tea.

"Hope it don't come to that," Marcus laughed back before leaving the kitchen and closing the outside door behind him.

* * *

Hermione was left to try and pack her belongs in to as many bags and rucksacks as she could find, having gathered her books and school work entirely into one luggage case, her school robes and some spare clothes in another bag. Now she was just left trying to organise her belongings and remaining clothes into the bags she had left, along with anything else she needed to take with her, or wanted to take with her.

She was currently sat in front of her mum's wardrobe, packing up her mum's old knitting patterns, needles and wool. Lost in thought, remembering the last summer they'd spent together when she'd asked her mum to teach her how to knit socks. They'd spent the day sitting on the bed with her mum teaching her how to knit, under and over, cross one pearl one, she could almost hear her mums voice again as she packed up the long grey needles without even thinking about it.

She remembered how her mum had laughed when she'd explained why she wanted to learn how to knit, so she could make some clothes for the house-elves and help them get their freedom. Neither of them had noticed her dad watching from the doorway, he called her 'his little activist' for the rest of the summer. Even thinking about it now gave her a sad smile as she remembered his grin as he called her that.

She'd been alone in the house for about an hour now; mostly packing things up and making sure everything was turned off, the TV, microwave and dishwasher. When it came to a lot of it though, she knew she'd have to ask her Uncle Giles for help. Sadly she had no clue how to contact the telephone company or gas people, or the water or electricity people, to let them know that her parents had died.

So much of the things that needed to be done were still beyond her, while she prided herself on being smart for her age and being able to figure most things out, there were some things that she just didn't know how to do, or the people she needed to speak to wouldn't speak to her because she was too young.

It was so frustrating for her, she was so used to being the smart one, the one Harry and Ron looked to for answers. Now she was the one that needed help and answers, and while Professor McGonagall had done all she could for her, there were still things that she couldn't do, she couldn't call up people and explain things to them, because she didn't understand how muggle companies worked or what the reference numbers were for on the bills, how the company needed a copy of the death certificates and needed the remainder of the bill paying in muggle money.

She'd had to go out however, back to the Ministry to arrange a few things, she she'd left Hermione alone, after constantly asking if she was alright with it, promising she wouldn't be long.

She sighed to herself as she looked out of the window, the late afternoon light was slowly fading to night time now, with the street lights coming on outside, casting their orange glow over the street. She smiled slightly as she caught sight of a few flecks of snow catching against the window, tomorrow was the first of December and the snow was already here, though she didn't have an advent calendar or anything this year as she'd always had before, her mum had always bought her a Disney advent calendar, sending it to her on the first of December every year since she'd started Hogwarts.

It felt wrong not to have one, but at the same time it would feel wrong to have one not given to her by her mum. She stood up and walked over to the window, looking through the glass at the outside world as the snow continued to fall, her breath steaming up the glass window as she watched the people outside going about their normal business like nothing had changed.

For her, everything had changed now, the world felt different around her, off somehow. Her parents had always been there for her, always listened, always taken care of her. Now the only family she had left was her Uncle Rupert.

She let the tears slide down her cheeks as she looked out the window, silently wishing her parents were still alive, wishing her mum was here with her, hugging her tightly to protect her from the cold outside world, as she looked outside her imagination drifted away to thinking about what her Uncle Rupert was doing today, what his house must be like, what sort of things he did day to day, or what job he did for a living.

* * *

With the fire burning away in the study happily, Giles was quite comfortable sat in one of the arm chairs, a book in his hand and a cup of tea on the side table. The fire crackled away and lit up the room with its warm glow, every so often sending sparks out into the fireplace where they smouldered before going dark.

He'd decided to forgo the books Professor McGonagall had given him tonight, having prepared himself a small meal in the kitchen and eaten there, before retiring back to the comfortable study area to relax.

Strangely he found himself actually missing the small television he had in his flat in Sunnydale, he'd become quite used to watching the various game shows on an evening, being amused by their 'general knowledge' section to see how his knowledge compared to the contestants on the show. It was sort of a guilty pleasure of his, something he'd always assumed he could go without, though now without them, he found himself actually missing them sadly.

Marcus had gone back to his bungalow for the evening, having had quite a tiring day sorting things out in the house, he'd decided on a relaxing evening with a bath and whatever else he chose to pass his time.

Giles just shook his head at that, Marcus seemed more like him than he chose to admit, preferring solitude and quiet for an evening, even when the company was offered. Taking a mouthful of his tea he grimaced as the cold liquid touched his tongue, swallowing it bitterly he put the cup back down before placing the book next to it on the table and picking up his cup and saucer to take back into the kitchen and retrieve a refill.

He stopped as he entered the kitchen though; something seemed off to him as he entered the room. It wasn't anything obvious, the door was still shut and locked, and the windows were shut against and wind and snow that played outside. There were no obvious intruders this time, but something still felt a bit off somehow.

Moving over to the kettle he flicked it on, placing his cup and saucer in the sink before retrieving a fresh one from the cupboard. As he opened the cupboard though, it hit him, that was what was wrong.

The cutlery and utilises he'd used earlier for his dinner weren't in the sink anymore, he was sure he'd left them there to clean up later, preferring to eat his meal while it was still hot and leave the washing up until afterwards.

Even the saucepan he'd used to heat the baked beans had been washed up and was hung on the wall by the fridge now, clean and dry as if it had never been used. The cup he'd drunk from with the meal, the plates he'd used for the meal and some bread and butter, both had been washed up, dried and put back in the cupboard where they belonged.

As the kettle continued to boil he checked the door, the key was still in the lock and the door was bolted shut, looking out through one of the glass panels he could see the lights on in Marcus' bungalow, but from this distance couldn't make out if he was inside or had come back to the main house for something.

That was it surely, Marcus had probably come back to the house for something, and he'd probably forgotten some papers or tools somewhere, maybe just to fetch a new light bulb or something from under the sink. He'd probably just seen the washing up and done it automatically, despite Giles telling him numerous times that he was more than capable of looking after himself, he wasn't a man like his father was, who chose to surround himself with servants and 'yes men', he'd quite happily do his own washing up and run his own baths.

Shrugging it off for the moment he retrieved a new cup and saucer from the cupboard, along with some tea and the now clean and dry tea pot. Deciding to make a pot of brew instead of just a cup, that way he could have a few cups in the study without returning to the kitchen every hour or so.


	9. Chapter 9

Professor McGonagall frowned as she apparated into location in front of the address Mr Giles had given her, half of the frown was from some snow that blew into her glasses which she wiped away quickly; the other half was from the house that stretched out in front of her.

Turning around she could see the gate and hedgerow that separated the pebbled entranceway to the house from the main street, giving it plenty of privacy away from muggles who were passing by the street, and the house itself was large enough to even give some of the pure-blood wizard families she knew feelings of inadequacy.

While Mr Giles had told her and Hermione that he now owned an 'estate' to the north of Camden, this wasn't quite what she had been expecting. From Hermione's house, she'd expected her family to have the same modest muggle housing, though as she was quickly learning, not everything with Mr Giles was exactly what it appeared.

Placing her wand back in her robes for the moment, she walked carefully up the white stone stairs to the front door, careful on the stone steps as the snow was already starting to settle here, and paused before the doorway. She could sense the magic here, an almost familiar feeling to the house, like it had been warded to protect against something, much like Hogwarts was warded.

Reaching out she rapped on the door three times, hoping that Mr Giles was actually inside and had not gone out for the day. He had told them that he would be arranging delivery of some items today, so she assumed from that that he would indeed be inside instead of out where he couldn't receive the items.

She didn't have to wait long before there was an almost visible shimmer around the door as the wards were lowered, a soft click later and the door opened to reveal Mr Giles stood there, a book in one hand and dressed much like he had been yesterday, in comfortable muggle jeans and sweater.

"Ah, good, Mister Giles, I was looking to speak to you if I may." Professor McGonagall said, trying not to shiver as a particularly large snowflake caught itself on the back of her neck.

"Of course," Giles nodded, stepping back from the doorway to allow her entrance. "Is Hermione not with you?" He asked as she stepped over the threshold.

"Not today Mister Giles, I believed it would be best if we spoke alone first." Professor McGonagall said as Giles closed the door behind her.

"Please then, come through," Giles motioned through to the study where he had been relaxing with the fire earlier. "I had just put a pot of tea on, would you like one?"

"Oh, yes please," Professor McGonagall smiled gently at him. "There's a slight chill outside, would be good to take the edge off before I have to venture out in it again."

"Quite," Giles smiled at her, glancing out the window to where the snow was starting to fall quite heavily now. "So Professor, what can I do for you this evening?" He asked as he walked through into the kitchen with Professor McGonagall following him.

"Minerva, please," Professor McGonagall said to him as they walked into the kitchen.

"Then Rupert," Giles smiled back at her as he retrieved another cup and saucer from the cupboard. "Milk? Sugar?"

"Just milk please," Professor McGonagall answered as Giles continued to move around the kitchen. "I had some rather unfortunate news yesterday Rupert, upon returning to Hogwarts, I was told my presence there may be required sooner than I had originally anticipated."

"Oh?" Giles asked, pausing from where he was filling the kettle up with fresh water.

"Indeed, I cannot go into the specifics with you, but suffice to say, I have been asked to return to the school tomorrow evening." Professor McGonagall explained sadly.

"I see," Giles said patiently as he put the kettle back on the stand and clicked it on to boil.

"As such, I have spoken with Miss Granger about this already, and at the school, we feel it would be best if you took custody of Miss Granger tomorrow instead of waiting any further." Professor McGonagall continued to explain as Giles moved to lean against the table in the centre of the room.

"And what did Hermione have to say about this?" Giles asked as he looked over at Professor McGonagall, gauging her reaction as she hesitated in front of him. "It's been my experience that teenagers rarely do as is asked of them, especially if they feel that the choice has been taken out of their hands."

"Indeed so," Professor McGonagall said with a small nod. "Though I believe she accepted the choice when I explained our reasons to her. I spent a great deal of time today at the Ministry explaining to them what had happened, and filing the paperwork for her to be moved into your care."

"Did she?" Giles muttered as the kettle clicked off. "And her reaction?" He asked as he turned around to pour the water into the tea pot he'd prepared.

"She has accepted our decision and was packing today, might I assume you have a room ready for her to stay in?" Professor McGonagall asked as Giles turned around with a cup of tea for her to take.

"Hmm, yes, I was preparing it for her to move in when she chose to, I see no reason why she can't move in tomorrow however." Giles nodded slowly as he took a sip of his own tea. "How is Hermione coping at the house then, if you returned to the school yesterday and, by your own admission, spent a great deal of time at the Ministry today? I hardly believe it appropriate for you to be leaving a grieving young girl alone for such long periods of time."

"Miss Granger is quite alright, I assure you. She is quite capable of taking care of herself without my constant supervision." Professor McGonagall glared at Giles over her glasses at the implied accusation.

"Then you believe it normal and expected to leave a young girl who has just lost her family, alone for practically an entire weekend? In an empty house I may add, filled with memories of the family she has just lost." Giles frowned back at Professor McGonagall, sipping his tea whilst carefully watching her for any signs of hostility.

"Now, see here…" Professor McGonagall raised her voice slightly as she put down the cup of tea.

"Do not speak to me like I am one of your students Professor," Giles enunciated each syllable of her title tightly as he put his own cup of tea down. "I was once at a school, much as you are, and I would not willingly leave any students of mine alone during a grieving period, especially one as young as Hermione." Giles' voice raised to match Professor McGonagall's as he glared at her. "Now, I have been reading through those books you have given me, and so far, what I have read of them, leaves me quite distressed as to the nature of your Ministry of Magic and the treatment of, as you call us, muggles."

"Mr Giles, I would not have you…" Professor McGonagall raised her voice again only to be cut off again by Giles.

"No, you will listen to me," Giles said sharply. "As Hermione's legally appointed guardian by the courts of this country, I am quite within my rights to see that she is well looked after, both at the school by her teachers, and is receiving a full a proper education." Giles bit out, raising his finger when Professor McGonagall moved to interrupt.

"Hogwarts is the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in Europe, I can assure you of that." Professor McGonagall explained, ignoring Giles' protest.

"Then explain to me how your government sanctions the discrimination towards werewolves, demanding they be registered with the Ministry and reveal their status on all job applications?" Giles practically spat at her. "A werewolf, or lycanthrope, is a person, just as you or I am, for nearly all of the month, only three days a month do they become dangerous, and provided they are contained during that time or restrained, they are no more a danger to anyone except themselves." Giles frowned as Professor McGonagall moved to interrupt, but he continued without giving her time to speak.

"However, this blatant discrimination is overshadowed by your blatant disregard for your students, not to mention your general population's safety, by allowing vampires to exist, work and live among you as legal citizens." Giles glared over, removing his glasses to polish them as he spoke in clipped tones. "The fact that your government not only allows vampires to exist and flourish within your world angers me more than your blatant hypocrisy and discrimination towards those infected with lycanthropy, and your government's sanctions on memory spells, Obliviate I believe them to be called, boarders on the darkest of magic's known. And as these bits of knowledge are freely handed towards parents, I can only imagine with dread what it is you are teaching at that school of yours!"

"Have you quite finished?" Professor McGonagall shouted back, her hand twitching towards her wand should Mr Giles prove to be one of the more violet muggles she had heard about.

"Oh I have a feeling I am only just getting started Professor." Giles bit out sharply.

"Then let me address these claims of yours before you go any further Doctor," Professor McGonagall bit back, emphasising his title much as he had been using hers. "Vampires live and function in our society as our discretion, they are not welcomed in the school aside from in the most stringent of cases, while they exist, as do vampire hunters without our ranks to deal with any rogue elements should they prove unworthy of our trust."

"Vampires are monsters," Giles snapped out. "I know of one vampire in all my time that has shown even the slightest amount of remorse for his killing, to allow these demons to interact with your people is reckless endangerment at best."

"You claim to know vampires, but you call them demons Doctor, surely you know the difference between the two?" Professor McGonagall shouted. "And for the record, one of our teachers, one of Miss Granger's current teachers in fact, is a werewolf. Appointed this year by Professor Dumbledore himself. The Ministry's views on people such as Professor Lupin are not all of ours Doctor, so do not lecture me on hypocrisy or discrimination."

"I know enough that my lover was killed by one of these monsters! Are you saying you don't teach this drivel to students then?" Giles practically demanded to know.

"There are some that do," Professor McGonagall answered honestly, the anger inside her subsiding as she realised the man was just trying to look out for his niece, if he'd indeed lost a loved one to a vampire attack then it was clear why he was so against the idea of vampires walking amongst normal people. "It is not a theory I teach in my classroom though, despite what the Ministry would like you to believe, we are not all as bigoted and blinded as those in charge."

"I can accept that," Giles nodded over. "Though allowing vampires to exist within your society reeks of stupidity to me, there are reasons they are known as demons and monsters, and should be wiped out."

"I assure you, the vampire population in our world is strictly regulated Doctor Giles, they are of no harm to your niece or anyone else for that matter." Professor McGonagall stated firmly. "I cannot talk for the others, but the very few vampires I have met, have been model citizens."

"I'm sure," Giles snorted in disgust at the idea of vampires living alongside humans, having the same rights as everyone else.

"If that is all you have to say on the matter, then I believe I shall take my leave," Professor McGonagall said firmly, her tone closing the discussion like a tomb. "Good evening Doctor Giles, I do hope tomorrow you can restrain your tongue, lest you distance yourself from your niece further."

Before Giles had a chance to say anything else, the space around Professor McGonagall warped for a second before she vanished with a loud crack that echoed in the silence of the kitchen. Giles just stood there for a moment, staring at the space where she had been moments before, before taking off his glasses and polishing them against his sweater.

"Bugger," He whispered in the quiet.

* * *

Hermione just sat in the silence in her room; she'd packed up as much as she could, clothes, books, her stereo and photos of her parents. They were all bagged up and sat downstairs in the living room, leaving her alone in what felt like an empty room now.

Everything personal was gone from the bedroom, photos, certificates than hung on the wall, the few stuffed unicorns she had on a shelf and one stuffed penguin that she got for a birthday present last year. All her CD's were bagged up as well, Sheryl Crow, M-People, Janet Jackson, even the HiFive album her dad had bought her but she'd never listened to.

She was reading through a History of Hogwarts again when a soft 'pop' called her attention away from the book.

"Professor?" She called out, hoping that it was Professor McGonagall back from the Ministry. When no answer came back she quietly picked up her wand and moved to the doorway, putting the book down on her duvet as she went.

She edged quietly along the hallway until she reached the stairs leading down to the main floor, leaning over the bannister she smiled to herself as she saw who it was that had just apparated into her house.

"Dobby!" She let out with a smile as she jogged down the stairs to meet him, her wand being put back in her pocket as she moved. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Dobby is very happy to be seeing you Misses Hermione," Dobby said as Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs where Dobby was stood.

"I'm happy to see you as well Dobby," Hermione smiled at him. "But what are you doing here; I thought you were free now."

"Dobby is a free elf!" Dobby said proudly. "Dobby comes when Misters Harry and Ron asks him to, they be asking Dobby to look after Misses Hermione. Asks Dobby to see if Misses Hermione's uncle is a good man."

"They told you to spy on my uncle?" Hermione asked, her voice raised in outrage.

"They is just looking out for you Misses Hermione, they be wanting you to be safe." Dobby explained with a sad face, worrying that he'd upset her.

"I'm not angry with you Dobby, it's those two back at school that I'm angry with. God, don't they think I can look after myself of anything?" Hermione raged rhetorically.

"Misters Harry and Ron asks Dobby to watched Misses Hermione's uncle, be making sure he is not a dark wizard like his family." Dobby explained.

"Like his family?" Hermione asked. "Dobby, he's not a wizard at all, I'm not quite sure what he is, but he's not a wizard, dark or otherwise."

"Dobby be thinking that as well Misses Hermione," Dobby nodded with a small smile. "Misses Hermione's uncle looks to be a good man, not like Dobby's old masters."

"You've seen him already?" Hermione asked. "Did he see you; did he know you were spying on him?" She asked, worried that her uncle might think she'd sent Dobby over to spy on him for some reason.

"Dobby was very careful, Dobby only watched and listened," Dobby nodded with a smile. "Dobby be told he is not to talk to Misses Hermione's uncle, only to keep an eye on Misses Hermione."

"So that's it, you just watched him and listened to him?" Hermione asked sceptically.

"Dobby does as Misters Harry and Ron asks, Dobby watched as Misses Hermione's uncle reads and reads, Misses Hermione's uncle has lots of books."

"You watched him read?" Hermione asked with a slight smile, if Dobby thought the man had lots of books, and compared to Hogwarts or the Malfoy libraries, then her uncle must have a LOT of books.

"Dobby watched, Dobby is sorry though, Dobby had to be cleaning. Misses Hermione's uncle left dirty cups and plates in the sink, Dobby had to be cleaning them for Misses Hermione's uncle." Dobby said, shrinking back from Hermione in case she was angry at him.

"You washed up after him?" Hermione choked back a laugh. "Did anyone see you?"

"Dobby was very careful, then someone else be coming in the house, Dobby did not see who, they be popping in like wizards be doing." Dobby explained. "Dobby hid to Misses Hermione's uncle or his wizard friend would not be seeing him."

"A wizard?" Hermione asked. "Uncle Giles knows a wizard, but I thought he didn't know anyone who used magic like me."

"The wizard be popping in like wizards be doing Misses Hermione, so Dobby be hiding upstairs. Then the mean lady told Dobby to be leaving, so Dobby be leaving Misses Hermione's uncles house." Dobby explained. "So Dobby be coming here instead, to look after Misses Hermione like Misters Harry and Ron be asking Dobby to."

"Wait, the mean lady?" Hermione asked, latching on to this piece of information, did her Uncle Giles have a girlfriend or someone that lived with him? He'd told them he wasn't married or had children, but he'd never mentioned a girlfriend.

"Mean lady be shouting at Dobby, calling him a Gnome like Frek she be saying. Dobby not be knowing any gnomes or any Frek's." Dobby explained.

"So the mean lady saw you?" Hermione gasped, thinking that Dobby must have interrupted her Uncle Giles' girlfriend or something.

"Mean lady be seeing Dobby when Dobby be hiding in Misses Hermione's uncle's study, there be lots of books and dusties there, Dobby had to be cleaning up." Dobby explained.

"So she saw you while you were cleaning my uncles study room?" Hermione translated for herself. "What about the other wizard, the friend of my uncle, did he see you?"

"Dobby was very careful Misses Hermione, when mean lady be telling Dobby to be going, he be going." Dobby explained with a nod.

"Did the mean lady have a name Dobby, did she tell you it?" Hermione asked, wanting to know what sort of woman her uncle was dating or living with.

"Dobby does not be knowing Misses Hermione, mean lady did not be telling Dobby her nameses." Dobby said quietly.

"That's alright Dobby," Hermione smiled at him. "I'm sure I'll meet her soon." She smiled again but inwardly was worried, if the woman her uncle was living with was shouting at Dobby, then perhaps she hated all magic, maybe that's why her Uncle Giles was so quick to reassure her about her magic. Her train of thought was derailed however when an angry sounding 'crack' echoed through the house, signalling another apparition had taken place. Turning around she saw Professor McGonagall stood in the living room now, and she could tell by the look on her face she wasn't happy with something. "Professor, is everything alright?" She asked, standing up from where she'd been sitting on the stairs.

"Of all the pig headed, arrogant, insolent… muggles!" Professor McGonagall raged as she stepped over Hermione's bags.

"What happened Professor, are you alright?" Hermione asked, worried that Professor McGonagall had run into some muggle problems during her day.

"I'm fine child," Professor McGonagall said with a sharp nod. "It's that muggle uncle of yours, of all the nerve, to lecture me on equality."

"Professor?" Hermione asked, a bit shocked that Professor McGonagall had been to see her uncle without telling her, and that her uncle had apparently been lecturing Professor McGonagall about something.

"I went to see him today, to explain to him that you would be moving in with him tomorrow, to check he was alright with the arrangement of course," Professor McGonagall explained. "But the nerve of that man, lecturing me on how the Ministry treats werewolves and vampires, and their use of memory charms, calling them dark magic indeed." Professor McGonagall 'humphed' to herself. "That man wouldn't know dark magic if you-know-who himself came and Obliviated him himself."

"Professor, you didn't!" Hermione asked in horror, the thought of Professor McGonagall obliviating her uncle springing to the forefront of her mind.

"Of course not, though I have to admit to being a wee bit tempted." McGonagall frowned at her. "What are you doing here?" She asked, seemingly noticing Dobby for the first time.

"Oh, this is Dobby," Hermione explained, motioning for Dobby to come out from behind Hermione's legs where he had been hiding from the angry professor.

"I thought your family didn't have any house elves Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall asked as Dobby came forward.

"Dobby has no masters," Dobby said quietly. "Dobby is a free elf; Dobby is just looking after Misses Hermione."

"A free elf you say?" Professor McGonagall raised eye eyebrow at this, turning back to Hermione.

"He's a friend professor," Hermione explained, causing Dobby to burst out in tears.

"A friend, Dobby be having friends, Dobby be the happiest elf in the worlds." Dobby said happily though tears.

"It's alright Dobby," Hermione knelt down and patted him on the back. "Harry freed him last year Professor, he apparently told Dobby to take care of me."

"A guardian elf?" Professor McGonagall held back a laugh as Hermione was obviously fond of the little house elf. "I assume you know how lucky you are Miss Granger, houses elves are quite full of their own magic, one that is free of his ties might be a powerful friend indeed."

"I know professor, the books say house elves can even apparate to places where wizards can't, that they don't even need wands to do magic." Hermione explained, remembering what the books had told her about house elves and their powerful magic. "Dobby just wants to be useful; he's so used to serving people that he doesn't know what to do with himself now he's free."

"Dobby had been seeing the worlds," Dobby said quietly. "The other house elves not be liking Dobby, because Dobby wants to be paying for his works."

"As well you should Dobby," Hermione said proudly. "I'm sure you'll find a family soon, a kind one that will pay you for your time and give you time off." She beamed as Dobby smiled at her.

"Oh Dobby be not wanting too much Misses Hermione, Dobby is not a greedy elf, Dobby just wants to be being recognised as free." Dobby smiled back at her.

"Maybe my uncle would hire you Dobby, I'm sure he'd like knowing that you're there, looking after me and keeping the place tidy for him." Hermione smiled. "I'll ask him tomorrow."

"Oh Dobby would be liking that very muchly Misses Hermione," Dobby beamed at her. "Misses Hermione's uncle has such a nice house, so many roomsies to be tidying and cleaning. Misses Hermione's uncle even be singing, be singing nice songs with a guitars."

"Yes, well," Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, the idea of a house elf wanting to be paid for his time seemed to go against everything she knew, but it was obvious something Hermione was happy for, so she would hold her tongue on this matter. "I should be going to bed, we both have a long day tomorrow Miss Granger, I see that you are packed and ready."

"Yes professor," Hermione nodded, looking at the bags scattered around the living room that now contained everything she knew or cared about.

"Then we should both retire for the evening," Professor McGonagall nodded at her.

"You can take my parents room tonight Professor," Hermione explained with a small smile. "It's more comfortable than down here I'm sure."

"If you are sure child, I wouldn't want my presence here to disturb your memories of your parents." Professor McGonagall explained her hesitation.

"I'm sure professor; I think they'd like it, knowing how much you've been looking after me. They'd want you to be comfortable here." Hermione smiled at her. "Dobby can sleep down here, there's enough cushions and blankets for him to be comfortable."

"Oh Dobby not be needing cushionses and blankets Misses Granger, Dobby is used to be sleeping in the cupboards, Dobby not be wanting to be any trouble." Dobby explained with happy tears, he knew Harry was a kind wizard, but having such kindness coming from another wizard was bringing him to tears again.

"It's no trouble Dobby, really," Hermione smiled softly at him. "You don't need to sleep in cupboards anymore, you're a free elf. You can be comfortable as you sleep like the rest of us."

"Oh Misses Hermione is as kind as Mister Harry be being, Dobby is so lucky to be asked to sleep in Misses Hermione's house as an equal." Dobby exclaimed.

"Well, goodnight to you both," Professor McGonagall nodded at Dobby, something she could scarcely believe she was doing, before smiling at Hermione.

"Good night professor, I'll go to bed soon, I just want to get a drink first." Hermione smiled back at her before Professor McGonagall moved past her to go up the stairs to the bedroom.

"Dobby be getting Misses Hermione a drink, Misses Hermione can go to bed, Dobby will be bringing it up for her." Dobby said, moving off towards where he could see the kitchen before Hermione could protest.

"Dobby, you don't have to do that," Hermione said as Dobby moved into the kitchen.

"Dobby be wanting to," Dobby smiled back as he as he entered the kitchen. "Misses Hermione is so kind to Dobby, Dobby be wanting to help her any way he can."

"Really Dobby, I can get my own drink," Hermione tried to protest again.

"Misses Hermione be going to bed now, Dobby will be bringing drink up for her." Dobby said from the kitchen. "Is no trouble for Dobby as Misses Hermione has been so kind to him."

"If you're sure," Hermione winced as she spoke the words, not liking the idea of a house elf, particularly a free one, serving her.

"Dobby is sure Misses Hermione," Dobby said from the kitchen, poking his head around the doorway with a smile. "Misses Hermione goes to bed; Dobby will be fixing things down here."

"Fixing… Dobby, you don't have to do anything." Hermione protested but knew it was falling on deaf ears. "Goodnight Dobby," She said after a moment with a sigh, knowing she wasn't going to talk Dobby out of anything he wanted to do.

"Good night Misses Hermione," Dobby said again, poking his head around the kitchen doorway again.

* * *

Giles frowned to himself as he wandered through the halls of his family home; something strange was definitely going on here. Every room he'd been into so far had been cleaned, tidied and dusted thoroughly, even his father's study, which he knew for a fact had been locked shut with him having the only key.

Rooms that he knew Marcus hadn't been into had been cleaned and the woodwork polished down, and he knew Marcus hadn't had time to do all of this because he'd been working on Hermione's room and cleaning out the summoning room today.

However, this niggling worry wasn't the thing that was keeping him awake, he kept running through the argument he'd had with Professor McGonagall in his mind, how he'd let his emotions get the run of him instead of actually sitting down with the professor and asking the questions like he had planned.

Even if he'd planned it to go that way it couldn't have been worse, going back over how angry he had been at the time and what he'd shouted and practically screamed at the woman, calling her a hypocrite and bigot. All he could think was he'd put his future relationship with his niece in jeopardy now, he had no clue how this woman would react, what she would tell his niece, how Hermione would react to his views about werewolves and vampires, seeing as they were so diametrically opposite to the views the wizarding world seemed to have.

Heading back down the corridor to his old bedroom he walked in and flicked the light on, squinting slightly as the harsh light filled the room with its fluorescent glare. The various posters of the Sex Pistols and Billy Idol highlighted the wall, practically glowing in their neon pink writing against the black of the poster.

Moving over to the bed he tossed the covers aside, smiling slightly at the black silk sheets that were unveiled under the deep red quilt cover. A half-filled ashtray was on the bedside table, along with a book of Faust he used to read as a teenager.

Opening up the draw he smiled again at the half empty packet of Silk Cut cigarettes that lay there amongst the candles and various other objects. Fishing the packet out he slid a cigarette out from the packet before standing up and looking around the room as he lit the cigarette with a match found in the same draw.

Breathing out the smoke easily enough he walked across the room to his old record player, taking the vinyl record of 'The Velvet Underground' off of the turntable he replaced it in its cover, taking a second to find it from the shelf full of records next to the player.

Smiling to himself he reached across and turned on a switch for the black light above the record player, flooding the room with its glow and making each of the posters and vinyl covers stand out with sickly bright colours. As he leafed through the collection of records he tapped some of the ash from his cigarette out into the ashtray that was perched on the shelf, idly made into the form of a casket with a skeleton inside.

He smiled as he found the record he was thinking of, pulling it out of the cover with practiced ease and laying it gently on the turntable before turning the player on before going back to the bed and laying down on it as the hiss of the record player filled the room.

The soft sounds of 'The Beatles' soon filled the room as he laid on the bed, relaxing in his familiar childhood room as he smoked the cigarette, memories of his teenage life and friends soon came flooding back as he found himself easily singing along to the song 'Let it be' that played along in the background.

"When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be." Giles sang along to the words as he let himself relax in the soft glow of the room, the black light and the main light in the room providing the background to his soft memories.

Grinding the cigarette out in the ashtray on the bedside table he took his glasses off and put them on the table before he laid back down on the bed, finding the pillows and bed just as comfortable as he remembered them to be. He was soon asleep as the song continued playing in the background.

"Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be." He whispered along to the song lyrics as he fell into the best night's sleep he'd had since returning to England.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione found herself awake unusually early come Monday morning, she hadn't been able to sleep that well anyway, the thoughts of her Uncle Rupert and what sort of woman he was living with still played nervously around her brain.

How would her Uncle Rupert's girlfriend cope with her moving in, would she hate her, would she be like Harry's uncle and aunt and despise magic. Dobby hadn't given her that much to go on, only calling her a mean lady and that she'd told him to get out of her house.

Perhaps the woman was her great grandmother, her Uncle Giles' mother. That was why she called it 'her house', but if that were the case, why would her Uncle Giles have said he was moving back in and getting the house ready for her if she didn't want her there.

All these thoughts and others played through her brain as she had a quick shower before going downstairs, the sound of someone already up and moving around downstairs bringing her attention back to her surroundings as she walked down the stairs to the ground floor.

The main living room was now spotless; the 'fort' where Professor McGonagall had thrown cushions and covers over the television was gone now. The coffee table in the middle of the room had been cleaned and the magazines stacked in a neat pile, even the television itself and the shelves around the room had been dusted and wiped down.

"Dobby, have you been cleaning?" Hermione asked as she walked through into the kitchen, her still wet hair clinging to the back of her neck and jumper.

"Dobby was just helping Misses Hermione, Dobby doesn't sleep much." Dobby explained as Hermione entered the kitchen to find Dobby cleaning down the work surfaces while a large spread of breakfast foods were laid out on the middle table, complete with a glass pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"You didn't have to do this Dobby, you're free remember, you don't have a master anymore." Hermione sighed to herself as she pulled up a chair to the table and sat down at it.

"Dobby wanted to, Misses Hermione has been so kind to Dobby, treating him as an equal, Dobby just wanted to help Misses Hermione and thank her." Dobby said with a smile. "Does Misses Hermione wants pumpkin juice with her breakfasts or something else?"

"I can do it Dobby," Hermione smiled at him, reaching over for the pitcher of pumpkin juice and filling up one of the glasses on the table. "Dobby, why are there only two plates?" She asked, looking at the way the table had been laid out.

"For Misses Hermione and Professors McGonagall," Dobby nodded. "Dobby doesn't want to be forgetting Professors, not when Dobby is wanting to be working at Hogwarts soon."

"You want to work at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked in shock. "Have you talked to Professor Dumbledore yet?"

"Dobby hasn't," Dobby replied, shaking his head. "Professors Dumbledore is being a powerful wizard, and very busy, Dobby doesn't want to be disturbing him."

"You'll have to talk to him if you want to work there Dobby," Hermione explained. "But I meant, why isn't there a place for you?" She asked, nodding to the table again.

"Misses Hermione wants Dobby to eat breakfast with her?" Dobby asked, as if scandalised by the idea.

"Of course Dobby, you're a friend, you can eat with me." Hermione reassured him, pulling out a stool from under the table next to her and patting it. "Come on, it won't hurt you you know."

"Dobby has never been asked to sit at a table before, like an equal," Dobby said in amazement as he looked at the kitchen stool that was slightly taller than he was. "Misses Hermione is truly a great and kind witch."

"Come on Dobby, you can sit here and enjoy breakfast with me." Hermione smiled at him. "And tell me what's been going on at Hogwarts."

Dobby climbed up the stool slowly, as if afraid that the stool was going to bite him or something before settling down in it and looking extremely awkward as Hermione got off her stool to fetch a plate to put in front of him. "Misses Hermione shouldn't be doing that, that being Dobby's job."

"It's not your job anymore Dobby," Hermione said as she put the plate in front of him and sat down again next to him. "So, tell me about Hogwarts, how are Harry and Ron doing, probably goofing off and getting in to all sorts of trouble I expect."

* * *

"So you yelled at her?" Marcus asked in amusement as he sat at the kitchen table with Giles, a pot of tea between them and plates of eggs, sausages, hash browns and bacon were in front of each of them.

"Quite, sadly I still have a knack for putting my foot in it it seems," Giles muttered before dipping a piece of sausage in the egg yolk and eating it.

"You think she told Hermione?" Marcus asked, snapping some of the bacon off before popping it in his mouth.

"I would think so," Giles nodded. "I hardly doubt the woman left with good intentions towards me after the argument we had. I seem to remember calling her a bigot and a hypocrite at some point, possibly not my finest moment."

"Sounds more like Ripper than you mate," Marcus chuckled slightly as he spread some jam on a piece of toast. "You think they'll still be coming over later then?"

"I would believe so," Giles nodded. "Professor McGonagall did say she needed to return back to the school today, so I would believe Hermione would be best here rather than being dragged back to the school again in the midst of all this." He sighed as he cut up some of the bacon and sausage and pinned them both on his fork. "I believe my first action, once we have seen to Hermione settling in, would be to apologise to the woman and make some sort of peace offering."

"How you planning on that?" Marcus asked, finishing off his breakfast quickly before pouring himself another cup of tea.

"I'm not sure," Giles mused to himself as he continued to pick at the breakfast nervously. "Perhaps if you would be so kind as to show Hermione around the grounds later, it would give me time to make amends with the professor, find some common ground so to speak."

"Aye, sure," Marcus nodded as he dropped two sugar cubes into the tea. "You think they'll be over later then, or this morning sometime."

"Not entirely sure," Giles frowned to himself, thinking what would happen in Professor McGonagall and Hermione were to apparate into the room in front of Marcus, would they use the obliviate spell on him to destroy his memories of it, or would he be able to talk them out of it somehow. It was obvious to him that they weren't going to be able to keep Hermione's magic a secret from him while she was staying here; he was bound to find out about it sooner or later. So the problem remained, how to talk to the professor about it first without it turning into another shouting match between them.

"Well, I'd best be getting everything sorted then," Marcus nodded as he drunk his tea and placed the plates and cup in the sink. "I'll clean those up later mate; just leave 'em there."

"I can manage thank you," Giles smiled wryly at Marcus. "Speaking of, did you happen to do the washing up last night, along with some other cleaning around the house?"

"Nah, not me," Marcus shrugged. "Relaxed last night, watched some trashy soap, never anything good on telly anyway."

"The truth if ever there was one," Giles chuckled to himself. "I'll finish off Hermione's bedroom myself I think, if you could make sure the libraries are ready for her, I believe those will be the places she wants to see first."

"Ahh, book worm then?" Marcus grinned. "Just like her mum and uncle."

"Quite," Giles chuckled. "And the family books, the history and ancestry, could you have those put in the main study for her. I believe Professor McGonagall expressed a wish to see them as well."

"Think I put 'em up in your old man's study yesterday," Marcus said after a moment's thought. "Yeah, they're on the shelf on the right of the door, put them there when I was changing the lock on the door."

"I shall retrieve them then," Giles nodded in thanks.

"You know if she'll want to take the horses out?" Marcus asked as he got his boots and coat on ready to go out in the snow. The snow had settled quite thickly on the grounds last night, so much so that he'd been out early to put the winter coats on the horses and make sure the stables were warm and comfortable for them both.

"I have no idea actually," Giles replied after a moment's thought. "The question didn't actually come up in our discussion."

"Ahh well, I'll show her them later, maybe she'll want to give them a run around. If not, I'll take 'em both out later and let them have their own time." Marcus nodded as he buttoned up his coat, ready to go out in the freezing morning air. "Spoke to Ceri and Katrina yesterday though; they'll give this week a miss, sounds like the girls were worried you wouldn't want them back though."

"No no, not quite," Giles shook his head with a soft smile. "They're quite welcome to come back once Hermione has settled in, I shall give them a call myself on Friday, let them know what is happening."

"Ok, I'll bring the numbers up then," Marcus nodded before heading to the door. "Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of," Giles nodded. "I shall let you know when they arrive."

"See you then," Marcus nodded with a smile before leaving the kitchen and closing the door behind him, leaving Giles alone to finish off his breakfast and prepare for his niece to move in to the family home.

Giles picked at his breakfast a bit more, managing to eat a slice of toast along with some of the bacon and sausage, but found himself deep in thought about what Hermione would actually think of the house when she arrived. What she would think of the libraries and bedroom they'd prepared for her, he was running through his mind the contents of the various libraries, double checking himself to make sure he'd removed all of the dangerous texts from the libraries in question to the upstairs study.

He didn't realise how long he'd been lost in thought before reaching for his cup of tea and finding it stone cold as the liquid reached his lips. Frowning to himself he put the cup and saucer in the sink, scraping off the cold food into the dustbin before placing the dirty plates in the sink as well.

He let his mind drift away again as he started filling the sink up with hot water, rolling up his sleeves tightly before squirting some washing up liquid idly into it as he looked out of the window at the snow covered grounds outside the main house. Even Marcus' bungalow was covered in a thick layer of snow, the windows letting the warm glow from inside out onto the pure white ground.

The washing up was soon done so he busied himself around the house, making sure everything was ready and perfect for Hermione to arrive. Retrieving the family history books from upstairs and placing them on the main study table for her, he also made sure to shut his old bedroom door, making a mental note to himself to clean up the room at some point in the future before Hermione walked in with more questions about him and his past, awkward questions that he was not ready to answer yet.

He'd had enough when Buffy and her friends found out about his dark past from Ethan and Ehygon, which was not a tale he relished telling then and was certainly not something he was going to impart on his niece. He was sure she'd have enough questions in time, but that one could certainly wait until she was older, far older as far as he was concerned.

Putting some more Beatles music on the stereo in the main study he busied himself sorting through the books, occasionally pausing to flick through an interesting book from the shelf, every so often he'd take the time to sit down and flick through a book that particularly caught his interest, relaxing and reading while the soft music played in the background while he waited for Professor McGonagall and Hermione to arrive.

* * *

Later on that morning Hermione and Professor McGonagall stood in the living room along with Dobby, Hermione was quickly just double checking all her bags and making sure she'd got everything she needed or wanted to take from the house. On Professor McGonagall's suggestion she'd brought the deed boxes from the house as well, so while she was double checking the bags, Professor McGonagall was placing shrinking charms on them as she went, moving the shrunken bags and contents into one bag holdall for ease.

"Is that everything?" Professor McGonagall asked as Hermione closed the last bag.

"I think so Professor," Hermione nodded as she zipped up the last rucksack and placed it on the floor. "I think I've got everything anyway."

"Well I'm sure your uncle will happily return with you should you find you have forgotten anything," Professor McGonagall nodded before turning to the last bag. "Reducio!" She incanted as she pointed her wand at the last bag, causing it to shrink down to the size of a small purse.

Hermione nodded as she picked up the small rucksack and placed it inside the normal sized holdall with the rest of the shrunken bags. The holdall and the three deed boxes, along with Crookshanks who was now in his cat carry case, were now the only normal sized things they would be taking with them to her uncle's house.

"Dobby will be carrying," Dobby said as he reached over and picked up the holdall awkwardly, wrestling with it for a moment before getting it comfortable in his hand before picking up one of the deed boxes as well.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall nodded at him as she picked up one of the other deed boxes. "Are you ready Miss Granger?" She asked, turning to Hermione with a soft look.

"Yes," Hermione said after a moment, taking one last look around the house as she picked up the deed box in one hand and Crookshank's case in another. She couldn't help but look at the photo of her mum and dad that was still perched on top of the mantel piece above the fire, she had enough photos of her parents with her in the bags, leaving just a few of them around the house. She nodded slowly at the photo, saying goodbye in her mind on last time before Professor McGonagall placed her hand on her shoulder.

There was a soft pop as Dobby winked out of existence first before Professor McGonagall smiled down at her reassuringly, then there was a firm tug behind her stomach as Professor McGonagall apparated them away.


	11. Chapter 11

Giles was sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea, nervously stirring the liquid with a spoon as he looked outside, watching the snow softly fall from the sky again. It wasn't coming down as heavily as last night yet but still made for relaxing viewing as he watched the white flakes dance about in the wind.

He still wasn't sure if Hermione and Professor McGonagall were actually going to turn up today, he didn't know enough about Professor McGonagall's temperament to know how she would have reacted to their argument last night. He hoped that she would be kind enough not to let it interfere with his relationship with Hermione, but there was still a niggling worry at the back of his mind that the professor would just take Hermione back to her school and he would never see her again.

As he stirred the tea nervously he was flicking through one of his old chronicles, specifically the one dealing with his first week when he took charge of Buffy as a Slayer. He'd gone back to it to remind himself of what teenage girls were normally like, going back to his first week with Buffy, when she was still fighting against her chosen status, helped him remember her attitude and thoughts back then. What she was like, what interests she had, what she loved or hated, how she reacted to being told things.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a soft pop coming from on front of him, lifting his head up immediately to see if it was Hermione and Professor McGonagall he got a strange shock when there appeared to be a small creature stood there, carrying a holdall bag and some sort of metal box with a handle.

"Dobby be wishing good mornings Misters Gileses," Dobby said, with the most harmless smile he could manage.

Giles just took his glasses off, polishing them thoroughly before returning them to his face, sure enough; the small creature was still stood there looking at him expectantly. "I'm sorry, what?" Giles asked as he stood up, looking down at the diminutive creature, it would barely come up to his waistline and had large ears that flopped around along with large eyeballs like golf balls that looked like they were threatening to pop out of its skull.

Any further thoughts from Giles were side-tracked again as the doorbell rung, causing him to turn his head towards the corridor out of the kitchen.

"Dobby will answer it Misters Gileses, Dobby be knowing it will be being Misses Hermione and Professors McGonagall." Dobby said, putting the two bags he was carrying down before running out of the kitchen.

Giles for his part didn't know what to think, first a small creature had just teleported inside his house, something the wards should have prevented in the first place, and secondly the creature seemed to know him and knew Hermione and Professor McGonagall. Leaning over he took a careful look at the cup of tea before lifting it up and sniffing it cautiously. "Just in case," He muttered to himself before he heard the door click open.

This sound brought him back to reality as he realised the small creature had just run to answer the door, leaving him stood there in shock. He had no idea who could be at the door, so he quickly ran out of the kitchen towards the front door, he still didn't know quite what to think about the small creature or it's seemingly strange way of speaking and acting, he was quite at a loss actually.

As he came through into the main entrance way he saw the creature holding the door open for Professor McGonagall and Hermione to enter. "Ah, hello…" He said as he jogged into the entrance way, not quite knowing what else to say as neither Professor McGonagall nor Hermione seemed fazed by the small creature.

"Dobby, we were going to apparate outside, remember." Hermione told the small creature with a soft glare. "I'm sorry Unc… Rupert, I hope he didn't surprise you."

"Surprise?" Giles asked in amusement. "Ah, no, his appearance may have briefly made me consider the state of my faculties, or I thought perhaps something had been slipped into my tea."

"Sadly neither are the case Doctor Giles," Professor McGonagall replied frostily.

"I see," Giles nodded, reading far more into Professor McGonagall's tone than her actual speech.

"This is Dobby Rupert, a friend," Hermione stepped forward, shaking a bit of snow from her hair as she did, beckoning Dobby forwards with her hand.

"Dobby?" Giles asked, remembering how the small creature had referred to himself as Dobby while speaking in third person when he'd appeared in the kitchen, well, he assumed Dobby was male, seeing as the creature didn't appear to be obviously female there wasn't a lot to go on.

"Dobby is a house elf Doctor Giles," Professor McGonagall explained as she put down the metal box she had been carrying next to the box and carry case that Hermione had placed by the staircase.

"Ah, yes, I seem to remember reading about these," Giles nodded, thinking back to what he'd read in those dreadful W.O.M.B.A.T books. "Servants or such, though judging by the state of his clothes…" He trailed off, wanting to say the creature looked more like a slave, but this time managed to hold his tongue so as not to start another argument.

"Dobby is a free elf Rupert," Hermione explained. "He's a friend; he just wants to be helpful."

"A free elf?" Giles asked, kneeling down to take a better look at the small creature. "And a friend, in that case, welcome." He smiled over at the creature, holding his hand out for the creature to take.

"Dobby be most thanking you kind sirs," Dobby said as he stepped forward gingerly and took the man's hand, just holding it gently in place instead of shaking it.

"He's a bit nervous," Hermione explained. "The last family he served weren't the best examples of wizards."

"Ah," Giles nodded as he gingerly shook the house elf's hand, almost afraid that he would break the small creature if he shook too hard. "Then you have nothing to fear here, Dobby was it?" He asked, causing the small creature to nod slowly. "Dobby then, any friend of Hermione's is welcome here."

"Misters Gileses be being most kind, Dobby can see where Misses Hermione got her kindness from sir." Dobby said with a smile as he let go of the hand and stepped back to Hermione's side.

"Yes, quite," Giles smiled bashfully, not knowing quite what to say to that as he stood up again. "Well, welcome." He smiled to Hermione.

"Your house is amazing," Hermione breathed out, looking around the entrance way. The softly polished wood panelling on the wall made for a warm and comforting feel, while she could see various rooms and corridors spilling off from the main entrance way towards other sections of the house.

"A family home," Giles nodded. "I must confess, I hadn't set foot in this house in nearly fifteen years before I received the news. Though this house has been in my family for generations, I find it a bit ostentatious for my needs."

"Quite," Professor McGonagall nodded sharply from where she was still stood by the staircase.

"Oh, sorry, please, come through. I was just enjoying a cup of tea, would either of you like a drink of some sort?" Giles asked, motioning for them to follow him. "Please, leave the bags; we can deal with them later once you have found a room you like." He smiled as Hermione nodded at him.

"Can I let Crookshanks out?" Hermione asked, looking at the wood panelled floor, it was obvious there weren't any house pets in the house from the way the floor was polished underfoot.

"Of course," Giles nodded with a smile. "I fear I don't have a cat flap on any of the doors though, so we will have to let him out when he needs for the time, until I can arrange for one to be fitted."

"He's house trained, I have his litter tray and toys in one of the bags," Hermione explained.

"I see," Giles smiled as he watched her undo the front door of the cat carry case and let the ugly ginger furball out. "Just the one bag?" He asked, glancing at the two metal cases that were by the cat carry case and assuming Dobby had brought the bag with her belongings in, which he had left in the kitchen if memory served him correctly.

"There are other bags inside," Hermione explained. "Professor McGonagall shrunk them all down so we could carry them easier."

"Ah, yes, useful," Giles smiled, a bit taken aback by the amount of magic both Hermione and Professor McGonagall seemed to be happy with using on a daily level. He smiled as the large ginger cat poked its head out from the carry case first before stepping out and looking around. "Perhaps we should leave your familiar to explore himself," Giles chuckled. "Please, come through." He nodded as he led them through into the main corridor and through towards the kitchen.

As he stepped into the main corridor he waited to one side for Hermione to step through first before moving alongside Professor McGonagall as she walked through. "Professor, I feel I must apologise for my words yesterday. I let my emotions control me, I did not mean to call you those things and find myself in little place to judge your world."

"I confess I may have reacted harshly myself Doctor Giles," Professor McGonagall acknowledged the apology. "There are some in our world that are as you described, at Hogwarts however we strive to rise above these others and set a good example for our students."

"I'm glad to hear it," Giles nodded with a soft smile. "I would greatly like to hear your views on your society however, perhaps you can cast some light on some questions I have after reading those books."

"I would be glad to Doctor Giles." Professor McGonagall nodded, accepting the gesture of friendship and discussion for what it was. "May I ask, the tattoo?" She nodded down to where his sleeves were still rolled up, showing the end of the mark of Ehygon still on the inside of his elbow.

"Ah, a remnant of a misspent youth," Giles answered, rolling down his sleeves to cover up the tattoo.

"Indeed," Professor McGonagall nodded. It didn't look like the dark mark Voldemort's followers were known to have on their skin, rather more like an ancient rune of some sort.

"It would be best to either keep it covered around Hermione, or show her fully and explain it, lest she jump to the wrong conclusions about the tattoo's origins." Professor McGonagall explained in hushed tones.

"Quite," Giles nodded, thinking that if Hermione saw it then perhaps she would want a tattoo of her own, maybe she was in the rebellious teenage stage earlier than he entered it. "Please, call me Rupert," Giles smiled at her as he directed Hermione left into the kitchen when she turned to look at him.

"Rupert, then Minerva," Professor McGonagall smiled as him as he led her through into the kitchen.

As he entered the kitchen he had to smile as Hermione was looking out of the window in amazement at the grounds outside where Marcus was walking around with Claudia, the larger of the two horses, in the snow to give her a bit of exercise. Dobby on the other hand seemed to be looking towards the sink nervously where there were two dirty cups and a few teaspoons waiting to be washed up.

"Is… is this all yours?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Yes," Giles nodded slowly. "The Giles estate has been in my family for generations, there is quite a bit of land to the back of the house, along with a stretch to the left which is currently taken with some woodland. My father rather enjoyed his luxuries, as such he invested quite a bit of money into the house and establishing himself in it, when he died, it was passed on to me. I must confess though it's not exactly to my tastes, I find myself quite happy to use just the kitchen, bedroom and study. I find it a bit large for my tastes, though perhaps with you here as well, more of the house can be used."

"And the man outside?" Professor McGonagall asked, following Hermione's gaze outside to the grounds.

"Marcus," Giles explained. "The groundskeeper so to speak, his father was in the employ of my father, sadly both have passed on now, after his father's funeral, Marcus stayed on to look after the estate in my absence. He's a good friend, one both me and Sarah grew up with. He was one of the things I wished to speak to you about, though sadly we got side-tracked last night."

"Indeed so," Professor McGonagall nodded. "Am I to assume that this Marcus lives here as well?"

"On the estate," Giles nodded. "He has his own bungalow down past the stables, it will be difficult for Hermione to live and practice her magic here without Marcus knowing, especially with… well, Dobby here."

"Indeed," Professor McGonagall smiled wryly. "I see no reason why he cannot be told however."

"Professor?" Hermione turned back to her from the window. "What about the statute of secrecy?"

"Does not apply here," Professor McGonagall explained. "Mister Marcus is in the employ of your uncle, as he is your guardian; the rules apply to Mister Marcus as they would do towards a servant of a wizarding family. As Rupert explained, it would be far more work to keep the truth from him than it would be to explain things to him."

"Oh he won't need much explanation," Giles chuckled dryly. "Marcus has been around my family enough to see his share of magic and supernatural, he will just need to know what to look out for, so he doesn't interrupt you or anything."

"Then that's settled then," Professor McGonagall smiled gently. "And yes, I would love a cup of tea Rupert." She nodded towards him.

"Dobby be doing it," Dobby nodded as he moved over and simply hovered up, levitating mid-air to reach the kettle which he turned on with ease.

"Dobby, you don't…" Hermione breathed out in frustration as she watched Dobby quickly move around the kitchen, finding the cups and saucers with ease and getting them ready.

"I thought you said he was free," Giles muttered to Hermione, watching in bemusement as the small creature seemed to levitate around the room to collect everything he needed to make the tea, seemingly knowing where everything was kept as if he'd been here before.

"He is," Hermione nodded. "He just likes to be useful, he's happy serving or cleaning, it's what house elves are good at. They're very quick at what they do and enjoy it most of the time."

"I see," Giles mused, taking off his glasses and polishing them on his sweater in amusement. "So this Dobby, serves you out of his own free will?" Giles asked, wanting to know more about the friendship between his niece and the strange creature that was buzzing around the kitchen making tea for them all.

"Dobby has no master," Dobby said proudly.

"That's right," Hermione smiled. "He was looking for employment, ever since he got freed from his last master, Dobby's wanted to get paid for his work and recognised as a free elf. Sadly most of the wizarding families don't like this idea, as they already have house elves that have been in their family for generations."

"Ah, so then he is the exception rather than the rule," Giles nodded.

"He's a good elf Rupert; he just wants to be recognised for his work." Hermione explained, slowly edging towards asking if Dobby could work here, it was obvious that her uncle would treat him well and not order him around or abuse him, it was just an awkward question to ask.

"Indeed," Giles smiled wryly as Dobby finished making the tea and just clicked his fingers, causing the kettle to fill the teapot up before it hovered over to the center table along with the cups and settled gently there with a pot of milk and a bowl of sugar cubes. "Quite the gentleman's gentleman, or gentleman's elf as the case here would be." He chuckled to himself. "Thank you," He smiled over at Dobby who just beamed back in response.

"Thank you Dobby," Hermione followed her uncle's suit and smiled at him. "Are the horses yours?" She asked, turning back to Giles.

"Yes," Giles nodded with a smile. "I have two of them in the stables, Claudia and Christian, both getting on in life sadly. That's Claudia outside, the older of the two. Marcus has arranged for two young girls from the nearby town to come and ride them regularly, though if you wish to ride one yourself I am sure they won't object."

"I… I don't know, I've never ridden a horse before," Hermione answered bashfully.

"Oh it's quite similar to riding a broom Miss Granger, I am sure you would do well." Professor McGonagall explained reassuringly, not realising that Hermione's bashful face was from not wanting to appear uneducated in front of her uncle when he obviously grew up around horses and places like this.

"Horseys being nice animals Misses Hermione," Dobby said with a smile. "Misters Malfoy used to have lots of Horseys that Dobby be taking care of for him."

"Oh yes," Professor McGonagall smiled. "They are quite lovely animals; riding in my youth was one of the most relaxing times I can remember."

"I can teach you if you'd like," Giles said with a reassuring nod to Hermione. "It's quite safe and easy, perhaps when the snow has gone we can take them out for a walk together."

"I'd like that," Hermione smiled at him.

"As would I," Giles smiled back as he picked up the tea pot and strainer and proceeded to pour tea into the three cups. "Ah, Dobby, could you please pass me two more cups." Giles asked, turning to Dobby who quickly did as he asked.

"There you be going Misters Gileses," Dobby smiled as he levitated the cups along with saucers over to the table.

"Thank you," Giles smiled at him before filling up the two other cups. "Milk, sugar?" He asked, looking at Hermione and Professor McGonagall.

"Just milk please," Professor McGonagall answered with a small smile.

"Milk and one please," Hermione nodded.

"Dobby?" Giles asked, turning to the house elf who looked shocked at being asked such a question. "Milk, sugar?" He repeated when no answer came from the elf.

"Dobby does not be knowing Mister Gileses," Dobby answered slowly. "Dobby has not been having teas with wizards before."

"Perhaps just milk then," Giles smiled over at him. "You can add sugar if you find it a bit bitter to your taste." He paused for a moment before turning to Professor McGonagall. "He can drink tea right, I assumed so but I didn't think to ask."

"Yes," Professor McGonagall smiled wryly, amused at the question. "House elves are much like normal people Rupert; they eat and drink much as we do."

"Ah, good," Giles smiled at her before returning to Dobby. "Wouldn't want to poison you or anything." He chuckled as he filled up the tea cup for him and poured some milk in each of the cups. "Will you excuse me for a second." He said before moving to the back door and unlocking it, opening it to let the cold air in before stepping outside. "Marcus!" He yelled, catching the other man's attention before waving him over.

Returning to the kitchen he smiled as the two women could see the man from outside heading towards the house now, wearing a long dark green trench coat that bellowed out behind him and dragged in the slow as he walked.

"Marcus has been a friend for as long as I can remember," Giles explained. "He was also a friend of your mothers, he saved quite a few of your mother's possessions which are now in her room, should you care to take a look."

"He knew my mum?" Hermione asked. Her mum had always been a private person, there we no photos of her growing up in their home and she rarely talked about her past, the proof being that she'd never even mentioned Uncle Giles or her side of the family before.

"Oh yes," Giles nodded as Marcus came up the steps to the back door and kicked the snow off his boots against the kickstand by the door. "Marcus, this is Hermione, and Professor McGonagall."

"Pleasure," Marcus said with a smile as he came into the kitchen.

"Nice to meet you," Hermione smiled up at the man, he seemed to be a bit younger than her uncle was, with long hair that fell around his shoulders and a neatly trimmed goatee beard. He had a friendly smile that seemed open and welcoming, but moved as if he was used to hard work and rough terrain.

"So you're Sarah's little one," Marcus smiled down at her. "Rupert's been telling me about you, grown a bit since the photo he showed me though."

"That was five years ago," Hermione smiled, thinking that the photo he showed him must have been the same photo he gave to her when they first met.

"And… that is?" Marcus asked, raising his eyebrow at the small creature that was sniffing a cup of tea with a confused look on its face.

"Dobby," Giles explained. "A house elf if you would believe it."

"Oh really?" Marcus said with an amused smile.

"Quite," Giles sent the smile back with raised eyebrows. "I believe he'll be around as much as Hermione is while she is here."

"Well, best be getting another room ready then." Marcus laughed as the small creature turned to him bashfully. "Nice to meet you Dobby."

"Nice to be meetings you as well Misters Marcus," Dobby smiled uncertainly at him.

"And you," Marcus smiled as he stepped over to Professor McGonagall, holding his hand out for her to shake. "Nice to meet the one that's been taking care of little Hermione." He smiled as Professor McGonagall shook his hand gently, as if she was unfamiliar with the gesture.

"Oh it was no problem I assure you," Professor McGonagall smiled at him. "Miss Granger has been quite the model student ever since I've known her."

"A book worm like her mum and uncle then," Marcus laughed. "You'll be in good company here then."

"I'm sure," Professor McGonagall smiled wryly. "You seem to be accepting Dobby's presence here quite easily."

"I've seen stranger," Marcus laughed. "Rupert's father had a knack for having pictures of strange creatures and such, sort of his hobby." He added after catching a look Giles subtly sent his way.

"Yes, well, Marcus, why don't you show Hermione upstairs, I'm sure she'd like to see Sarah's old room, perhaps unpack there." Giles said, cutting off anything further Marcus was about to say.

"Sure," Marcus smiled. "Dobby, you fancy a tour as well?" He asked, turning to the small creature.

"Dobby would be happy to be comings with Misters Marcus." Dobby smiled as he put the cup of tea down, still not having actually tasted it yet.

"Hermione?" Marcus asked, motioning back to the main corridor.

"I'll be up shortly," Giles smiled at her. "There are just some things I wish to discuss with Professor McGonagall here first."

"I'm sure you'll be fine child," Professor McGonagall nodded at her. "Take your bag with you; I'm sure Mister Marcus can find you a suitable room."

"Please, just Marcus," Marcus laughed at her. "Come on, I can show you Rupert's old room, sure you'd get a kick out of seeing what he was like as a teenager." Marcus laughed as he led Hermione and Dobby out of the kitchen and into the corridor.

"I am certainly doomed," Giles muttered to himself before taking a mouthful of his tea. "Hmm, Dobby does make good tea however." He smiled to himself as he pulled a stool out and gestured for Professor McGonagall to do the same and get comfortable. "Now, there are some things I think we should discuss." He smiled reassuringly at her, making sure she knew that he wasn't going to start another argument here.

"I'm sure there are," Professor McGonagall said with a wry smile as she pulled out a stool and got comfortable at the table, pulling her cup of tea over to her so she could sit and drink comfortably at the table.

* * *

"How long have you known Rupert then?" Hermione asked, feeling a bit funny about calling her uncle Rupert instead of Uncle Rupert, but she didn't think she knew him well enough to actually call him uncle anything yet.

"Oh we grew up together here," Marcus explained. "My dad worked for his dad, and I think my grandfather worked here as well, can't really remember though."

"Misters Marcuses be keeping a nice houses here," Dobby said with a smile as he followed Marcus and Hermione up the stairs to the next floor. "Be keeping much nicer houses than Misters Malfoys."

"Thank you," Marcus said with a smile, not quite knowing what else to say to the small creature that was following behind them while carrying Hermione's bag instead of walking alongside them up the large staircase.

"What did you mean by you've seen stranger?" Hermione asked as they reached the top of the stairs. "In the kitchen, you said you've seen stranger than Dobby before."

"Oh, nothing really," Marcus waved it off nervously. "Just that Rupert's father, your grandfather, had a habit of collecting old books and pictures; they had pictures of strange and wonderful creatures in them, all from myths and legends around the world. Dragons, elves, gnomes and the such, some more exotic than others."

"Does he still have these books?" Hermione asked, excited at the prospect of new knowledge around for her to investigate.

"Oh I'm sure Rupert has them around somewhere," Marcus laughed. "Ah, here we are," He smiled as he opened the door in front of him, hoping Sarah's old room would distract Hermione from asking anymore questions about the Chronicles Rupert's father kept hidden away.

"This… this was my mum's room?" Hermione asked as she walked slowly into the room, it was huge. Dominated by a large four poster bed in the center of the room, with a large dressing table with three angled mirrors on it, a large window covered most of the side of the room, looking out onto the grounds outside with a doorway to one side leading out to a small balcony area.

There were pictures of her mum all around; she could easily recognise her even though she'd never seen a picture of her mum growing up before. She had the same bushy hair that she did in some of the photos, others it was platted or in a ponytail. There was a large pink fluffy toy in the middle of the bed that clashed with the soft orange pillows and bedspread; more fluffy toys were dotted around the room on shelves and desks.

"It's… it's huge," Hermione whispered out in shock.

"Well Sarah always did like the room," Marcus chuckled. "Always active that one, running around, wanting to learn everything and anything she could."

"I… I just…" Hermione stammered out, not knowing what to say. The bedroom itself was larger than her parent's living room, with a soft couch against one wall next to a book case that was filled with old books and plays.

"It's yours now," Marcus smiled at her, taking the bag from Dobby with a smile and putting it on the bed. "Unless you want another, I mean, I'm sure there's other guest rooms around. I haven't had chance to sort through them yet, only just got this one cleaned up yesterday." He smiled at her. "Still needs a dust some…" He paused as he looked at the dressing table in the corner of the room that was now gleaming; even the mirrors had been polished to perfection. "Oh, guess Rupert must have done it last night then." He trailed off, missing the look between Dobby and Hermione.

"It… it's more than fine," Hermione breathed out, walking over to the bedside table and picking up the photo of her mum that was there, the photo showed her mum about the same age as she was now, outside obviously and playing near the stables with her Uncle Rupert, both of them using brooms like quarterstaffs and fighting gently, both with large smiles on their faces.

"I took that one," Marcus said with a smile as Hermione sat on the bed gently. "Thought you'd like to see your mum and Rupert together when they were your age."

"They look so happy," Hermione breathed out, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Hush," Marcus smiled gently at her as he sat down on the bed next to her. "Don't cry." He whispered to her.

"I just miss them," Hermione said, wiping the tears that were now threatening to spill down her cheeks. "I miss them so much, why did this have to happen, why now, why to them?"

"Who knows?" Marcus whispered, putting his arm around her gently and reassuringly. "I'm sure they're watching over you though, protecting you. They're in a better place now, I'm sure of it." He smiled as he rubbed her hair gently and she nodded, tears still flowing down her cheeks. "Sarah was a good person, and I'm sure you were more important to her than anything, but we can't change what happened to her, sometimes bad things just happen."

"But why to them?" Hermione cried out, rubbing her eyes with her hands and smearing the tears around her face. "Why did this happen, why did they have to leave me?"

"Hush…" Marcus whispered as Hermione moved around to hug him, he laid his arm around her and stroked her hair, trying to be as comforting as he could to the young girl. "Hush…" He whispered again, smiling in thanks to Dobby who came across the room carrying some tissues from the en-suite bathroom. "Come on now, wipe your eyes." Marcus smiled, taking the tissues and putting them in her hand.

"I… I'm sorry," Hermione sniffed out, taking the tissues to wipe her eyes and nose.

"It's fine, quite alright, really," Marcus smiled at her. "I was the same when my father died, cried for weeks." Marcus chuckled to her. "I can't tell you that it gets easier or it's ever alright, but if you remember them, and are happy for them, then they're never really gone."

"I guess," Hermione said in a small voice.

"I'll leave you alone for a bit if you like," Marcus said, standing up from the bed. "I'll be downstairs, come down when you like, I'm sure Rupert would like to get to know you more."

"I…," Hermione nodded instead of saying anything, unsure what to say anyway as the words caught in her throat.

"Take your time," Marcus smiled at her. "I'm sure he'll understand." He nodded gently at her before he moved out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with Dobby in the large room with memories of her mother.


End file.
